In Every Bone
by Iffy Jr
Summary: Derek/Stiles canon after season 2. "Naturally there's already a new problem in Beacon Hills that the werewolves and their humans have to deal with, but it is rather comical that it has to do with cats. The question now, though, is which of the friends is going to be the one they have to try and stop..." In-Progress.
1. Independence Day

Author's notes: So I started watching Teen Wolf on Netflix…and this spewed out, 192 pages and just under 105,000 words long according to Word. It's a Sterek story, in third person between both Stiles and Derek, but it'll probably Stiles most often since I'm better at writing his type of character than Derek's. Anyway, whenever I put an "**OoOoOoO**" that means the perspective has changed, and an "**XxX**" just means there's been a break in that current perspective and is going to stay in it. If that's confusing don't worry it'll be super obvious when you get to it.  
I've only gotten around to watching the show on Netflix (since I came in after it aired and didn't want to watch stuff out of order), so I haven't seen any of season 3 yet since it's only got the first 2. A shame, really, but I'll get over it. Anyway, the point of telling you that is, this is all based after season 2 and without any of 3 incorporated in. Also I'm pretending that Gerard died right there instead of crawling off somewhere because I don't want to deal with old threats. The kanima is gone so now we've just got Mr. power complex Jackson the asshole werewolf, the bad guys are all dead, Allison still broke up with Scott, blah yada blah.  
Also I'm saying that they're all still in school for a little while longer, the last day of school being June 21 (that's also on a day of the full moon, and while this is supposed to be 2013, the full moon is on a 23 in June and that's a Sunday so it couldn't really be the last day of school and yeah). My story starts on Friday, May 24, so there's 28 more days (AKA 4 weeks) until the end of their sophomore year if you include weekends. Also at the beginning of every chapter I'm going to have what day it is written. It's mostly for my benefit while I'm writing this, but I'm sure it'll be helpful to you guys too.  
There'll be multiple chapters to this, and each chapter will be posted every 2 days or so. Maybe like 3 if I get distracted, or even just 1 if I'm really on a roll, but I've been writing a long time and that's usually about how long it takes to get all my thoughts together and form a coherent chapter with a proper number of pages.  
So, here's the first chapter! Remember, it's my first one and season 3 doesn't exist, so don't be too hard on me! Enjoy :)

PS I just gotta say... I write my stories on my phone a lot, and it's not like a cool phone so picture writing with T9 on some old flip phone ok it's not fun but I've gotten very good at it. Anyway I usually end up writing more than one story at a time, so at the beginning of each message I put ~InitialsOfStoryTitle~ so I don't get them mixed up. So like the one for this is ~IEB~ and I just realized (being about halfway through this first chapter) that those are totally the initials for Isaac, Erica, Boyd. They're totally not the main characters (well Erica gets important at first but whatever) but I just thought it was accidentally clever and that is all continue you on thanks bye

* * *

**Disclaimer**: If you know the name, they're not mine! (Shame, too, because that is one damn attractive cast.)

**Summary**: Derek/Stiles. "Naturally there's already a new problem in Beacon Hills that the werewolves and their humans have to deal with, but they can't help but think of it as comical that it has to do with cats. The question now, though, is which of the friends is going to be the one they have to try and stop." In-Progress.

**Pairings**: (Main) Derek/Stiles; (Other) Scott/Allison, Jackson/Lydia, Boyd/Erika, Peter/Melissa, Danny/Unimportant OC, platonic Stiles/Erica, Isaac/monster OC  
**Rating**: Mature/Explicit  
**Additional tags/warnings**: m/m and m/f pairings; strong language; smut (no knotting); Bottom!Stiles/Top!Derek; mates; slow build; Good!Peter; other beasts besides werewolves; minor character death; multiple OC's; violence/gore

* * *

**1: Independence Day**

_STILES  
Friday (late evening), May 24…_

"What I don't understand," Scott says, "is why her father _continues_ to refuse to let me date Allison when he knows I've never killed anyone before! He _knows_ I'm a good guy, so is it really a big problem that she and I at least talk at school? We've already had to join forces, so we might as well make it permanent."

Stiles, staring up at the stars, almost forgot that his friend was talking for a minute. "Huh?"

Scott sighs. "Never mind."

Stiles sighs in return, sitting up form his favorite spot on Scott's bedroom floor. It's the best place to look out the window. Scott is sprawled on his stomach across his bed. "No, man, I'm sorry," he says. "I just have a lot on my mind."

Scott snorts. "_You_ have a lot on your mind?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Yes, _I_ do. Just because I'm not the one with claws and glowing eyes doesn't mean I can't have problems too. Granted, most of my problems _involve_ people with claws and glowing eyes, but that's not important."

Scott gives him a sad smile, dropping his head over the side of the bed. "I'm sorry I've made your life so stressful."

"No, that's fine," Stiles says, moving to lean against the bed. "It's not your fault."

"No, it's Peter's."

Stiles grins up at his best friend. "Think the ole zombie would let me punch him in the face?"

Stiles didn't really expect an answer, but he gets one anyway: "I highly doubt it."

Stiles yelps and Scott literally throws himself off the opposite side of the bed, giving Peter a good reason to laugh at them as he crawls through the open window.

"Come on, now, I'm not that scary," he says, sitting down on the windowsill once he's in. "Whatever happened to punching me in the face?"

"Peter!" Scott growls, sticking his head up. "What are you doing here?"

"Without an invitation, by the way," Stiles adds.

Peter gives an apologetic look. "Sorry," he says sickly sweet, "but there's a message I just _had_ to relay."

Scott jumps up on the bed, smiling bright. "From Allison?"

Peter gives him a dull look. "Why would _I_ have a message from Allison? She'd be safer from her father's wrath about werewolf contact if she just gave the message to you in the first place."

Scott sighs, flopping onto his stomach like he originally was. "Sorry."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Who _is_ it from, and what do they want with Scott?"

Peter smiles. "It's for both of you, actually. You know that, after my death, I ceased from being the alpha, which means that I'm still not even though I'm back. Derek is now my alpha, which means I have to do whatever he says."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Alright, the message is from Derek, go _on_." He's surprised, though, that Derek actually has something to say to him. He's pretty sure the guy still hates him for the whole Miguel thing.

Peter _tsks_. "So pushy. He just wants you guys to come to a pack meeting."

Scott frowns, swinging down to sit beside Stiles. "That's it?"

Stiles frowns deeper. "Why would _I_ be invited to that?"

"Because it affects you as much as it affects us, genius," Peter says. "There's another thing, though…"

Scott prompts him to tell them.

"Stiles isn't the only human coming," he finally says after shushing the other werewolf. "Both Allison and Lydia are coming as well."

Scott grins like a love struck puppy, but Stiles just can't boost up the right energy to smile like that. It's only been three days since the kanima was taken care of for good, and Stiles knows he _said_ his plan to get Lydia was now for fifteen years, but…does he really want to wait that long? There's got to be _some_body just as beautiful and mesmerizing and perfect and… He sighs. Maybe not.

Peter pats the top of his head. "Don't feel bad, kid. She was never yours to begin with."

He smacks the appendage away. "She was crying in her car once, and I would have talked to her, but I got stuck with Derek in the pool. Not to mention that the one time she's _ever_ come to _my_ house I accidentally yelled at her."

"I've yelled at Allison tons of times," Scott says. "Full moon's a bitch, you know? But it's not gonna scare her away if she really wants you, Stiles."

"Yeah, well, the problem is that she doesn't." He drags a hand down his face. "Thanks, though." He looks up at Peter. "When's the meeting?"

Peter grins. "Now. My car's down the street; you can ride with me so you don't have to wake your dad with the Jeep."

Scott frowns as he and Stiles move to dress a little warmer. It's pretty close to summer, but being that they're just in pants, they should probably put more clothes anyway. "Why are _you_ driving?" Scott asks.

Peter answers as he climbs back out of the window: "Partly because I knew Stiles would be coming, and also because I'm not strong enough to run around yet myself. Not enough to come from my apartment to you guys and then to where the meeting is, anyway."

They all move as silently as they can out of the window, over the edge of the roof, and down the sidewalk to where Peter parked his car a few houses over. Stiles starts to go for the passenger seat, but Peter laughs and says something about werewolves first. And then Scott actually has the audacity to grin, so Stiles grumbles and gets into the back seats of the black 2002 Camaro. Maybe he'd have to climb behind the front seats to get in the back of Derek's 2011 one still, but at least it looks cooler.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Stiles asks once they're on the move.

"Just the old warehouse with the subway car," Peter says as he peels around at dangerous speeds that would be even more dangerous if he didn't have werewolf senses—dulled ones, maybe, but still.

"The Argent's haven't found them yet?" Scott asks.

Peter shakes his head. "Derek would never say it out loud, but he's proud of Isaac for finding it."

Stiles huffs. "Does he always have to be Mr. Tough Guy? Even when he _wasn't_ the alpha he was always a dick."

Stiles sees Peter give a sad smile in the rearview mirror. "He used to laugh at my jokes, but a lot's happened since then." His sad look blows into a grin. "You should see him drunk."

Scott snorts. "Really? What kind of drunk is he?"

Peter laughs outright. "He's all _sorts_ of drunks. Loopy, needy, slutty… He laughs at _anything_, and then he'll either want to cuddle and talk about the feelings he pretends he doesn't have or he'll drag you to the nearest dance floor and actually act as sexy as he knows he looks. He's always been a werewolf, though, so it takes a lot more to get him to that point. And, sadly, he hasn't let himself get there ever since the fire. Shame, too. He could use a little relaxation time with that pissed off look he's always wearing."

Stiles leans forward, resting his chin on the shoulder of Scott's seat. "Well, most of the danger is gone now, right? I mean, the hunters are still here, but they're just as tired as we are. I bet we could figure out how to have a movie night or something. My dad's schedule is all over the place, so we'd have to do it on a day he's got night shift. Anywhere else we'd have to deal with parents and a way to sneak Derek and you"—he pokes Peter's shoulder—"in after the fact, since everybody thinks Derek is dangerous even though the charges were dropped, and you're middle-aged."

"Yeah, that sounds fun!" Scott says. "It's going to take a million years to come up with a movie that we all want to see, though…"

Stiles grins. "I've got one."

He knows that Scott knows he's thinking of Independence Day, so the glare he gets is expected. "Not a chance in _hell_."

Peter frowns as he pulls into a secluded area to park his car. "Wait now, let me in on this."

"Independence Day," Stiles says. "Our lacrosse coach gives the big speech at the beginning of all the championship games."

"I like that movie, and if Derek's taste hasn't changed, he likes it too."

"Well…" Scott fumbles for an excuse so that they don't have to even suggest it to the others. "Lydia probably won't like it."

Scott cocks an eyebrow as Peter turns his car off. "Will she even come? She won't if Jackson doesn't."

"No, he's going to be here," Peter says as they all get out of the car. "Maybe not yet, but he will be. It's hard to resist the howl of the alpha." (Now that Jackson is actually a werewolf, Derek keeps trying to get him to listen to the pack rules, but it's not really going that well. It's only been a few days, though, so he'll come around eventually—especially when he learns that the alpha will kill him if he doesn't. Fun stuff, werewolf rules.)

Stiles grins. "Looks like that's the one, then."

Scott groans.

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

Derek hears Peter, Scott, and Stiles making their way through the secret passage he had Boyd make before they even show, and they all come down the stairs laughing from one of Peter's horribly lame jokes. They're the third group to arrive, after Allison, who is currently sitting on the mattress that Derek sleeps on, and she was after Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. Isaac is currently swinging from the rafters, Erica is leaning against the subway beside the door that leads into it, and Boyd is leaning against this side of the stairs. When they come down, Peter instantly moves to just sit in the middle of the floor a few feet from Derek, and Scott moves to sit beside Allison after she gives him an eye roll and pats a spot beside her. Derek himself is standing by a table he set up, facing the direction that he can see everybody in the room at once.

Stiles, though, looks around a little and scratches the back of his head, not really sure where to go. Derek can sense how uncomfortable and confused he is, both because he's not used to coming to pack meetings and because he thinks that he's useless to them because he's human. He's not, though. Maybe the mountain ash around the rave building was sort of pointless in the end, but it did work, and he's always been there to give somebody a ride. He was annoying when working against Derek and his pack, of course, but who wasn't? He's still annoying, really, but at least he's bearable.

Eventually Derek sees Erica motioning him over to sit by her, and Stiles looks even more confused as he goes to sit on the bottom step of the ones that lead into the subway. Derek isn't looking directly at them, but he's been a werewolf all his life; he knows exactly how to see them without really looking. He knows exactly how to sense everything in the entire room.

Peter's breathing—the same pattern he had when he would rub Derek's back after a nightmare. That was long before the fire, of course. Their relationship has been somewhat strained since then. Boyd's breathing, suggesting that he's bored out of his mind but knows he shouldn't be an ass and say anything about it. Isaac's too, heavy from the acrobatic swinging he's been doing for the last twenty minutes.

The light tinkle of Allison's earrings, and the way that Scott is forcing himself to breathe so she doesn't know how badly he wants to kiss her. They're talking about how Allison got out here without her father questioning her, and that's because she told him that she's staying over at Lydia's tonight.

"But why isn't Lydia here with you?" Scott asks.

"Jackson lost a bet to Danny," Allison says, "so now Danny's got the Porsche until Sunday night." It was hard for Jackson to explain to his adopted parents that he wasn't _actually_ dead, but they were relieved enough not to ask too many questions about it. Now, only three full days since the kanima was gone for good, he hasn't shut up about the fact that he's come back from the dead _twice_. Derek wants to slit his throat and get it over with, but he needs the pack strength. Besides, Lydia would get mad at him, and then Stiles would, then Scott would, then Allison, and it would all build up from there and it just isn't worth it.

The ragged breathing coming from Stiles as he tries to only look at Erica's eyes (teenagers are adorable), plus the ever growing confusion as to why she's actually being nice to him instead of hitting him over the head with his own car starter. Erica was rather proud of that story.

"Evening," Erica says.

"Hi?" Stiles replies uneasily.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Uh, no, Scott and I sat up talking. It's only, like, ten-something right?"

Erica nods. "Closer to eleven."

He nods in return, looking away. "Did, um, _you_ sleep at all?"

"I got a few hours before, but only because I knew I wouldn't be sleeping through the night."

Stiles looks back up at her eyes again. "You know what the meeting's about?"

"Yes, but I'm not going to tell you. Derek will explain it to everyone as soon as Jackson and Lydia get here. Oh, and…" She unsheathes a single claw and taps it against his nose. "You're only looking at my eyes again."

Stiles quick looks down at the floor. "Remind me not to do it anymore, 'cause the last time I did that I woke up in a garbage bin."

She breathes a laugh. "What I meant, Stiles, is that I can sense your uneasiness around me."

Stiles licks his lips and frowns. "How?"

She shrugs. "It's a werewolf thing. I can…smell your emotions, to put it simply. Now scoot over, I don't want to stand this entire meeting."

Stiles does, allowing her to move passed him so that she can sit on the step up behind him and rest her legs on either side of him. Boyd moves to sit on the floor beside Peter, striking up a conversation to combat the bored. Where's Jackson? He's taking too long.

Stiles drops his head back, resting it against one of Erica's thighs. "You don't _still_ have a crush on me, do you? Because, sensational as you look, I've had a crush on the same girl since third grade, so I wouldn't have looked at you anyway."

Erica breathes another laugh. "No, you're safe." She casts a brief glance up at Derek before her eyes dart to Boyd, and then she leans down to whisper into Stiles' ear: "I'll give you a back massage if you help me get with Boyd."

Derek gives an inaudible snort. He knows that Erica probably knows he's listening in since he always listens to everything, but Boyd is too busy talking to Peter to notice his name being spoken.

Stiles laughs as she leans away. "Awesome as that sounds, I have a better idea."

Erica raises an eyebrow. "You want me to help you get with Lydia?"

Stiles sits up, glaring down at the concrete. "Is it that obvious?"

Derek glances over at Erica as he hears a car door slam outside, and she gives him a sort of "_what can yuh do?_" shrug before leaning forward to rest her chin against Stiles' shoulder. "I can smell it on you, and I'll be able to smell it on you again in about thirty seconds when she and Jackson come down those stairs. Even if I do try and help you, Stiles, it's not going to work unless Jackson dies, because they're in love. And, being honest, do you really want to be that _much_ of a second choice?"

The sad emotions in Stiles' body practically engulf the entire room, and even Scott notices enough to stop talking to Allison and glance over at him, Isaac enough to stop swinging for a moment, and Peter and Boyd to glance over without stopping their conversation.

"Fine," Stiles hisses, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Erica, not even noticing that he's suddenly the most popular person in the room. "Give me that damn massage."

Derek knows firsthand that Erica is very good at those. He certainly doesn't let her kiss him anymore, but even as a werewolf he's got pretty sore muscles (_especially_ as a werewolf, since he's always moving around and shifting forms). She gives them to all of him, Isaac, and Boyd if they ask nice enough, and sometimes she'll do it if they don't ask at all and she's just bored. Being the only female in the pack, she's unknowingly taken over the role of "mothering wolf". Derek and Isaac are the only ones that actually sleep here since Erica and Boyd still have family (not that they're actually there very often, but said families don't exactly care about that as much as families should), but the next time she sees any of them she _knows_ if they got any sleep or not, and if they did if they got woken up by nightmares. She only asked Stiles for a conversation starter, but she knew. Derek's not sure how she knows (mostly because he doesn't even know that sort of thing unless he asks), but she does. It must be a female thing, because his mother used to be the same way.

Stiles definitely notices when Jackson and Lydia come down the stairs, but he purposefully doesn't look up, trying really hard to lose himself in Erica's hands. Lydia gives Allison a bright smile and moves to sit down beside her, and Jackson gives Derek a dark look (to which Derek simply returns with a red eyed glare) as he moves to sit beside Peter and Boyd.

Stiles glances up right as Isaac is flipping down from the ceiling, and Derek almost shoots out a hand to steady him as he lands just inches away from him. He doesn't though, and just keeps his hands tightly crossed. He doesn't forget that Isaac is a werewolf, he just happens to be the clumsiest one out of his five other pack members. Not enough to actually trip over himself, but it sure looks like he's going to sometimes. When the first full moon rolled along, Derek was just annoyed with the three wolves he had at the time. They weren't learning right and they kept questioning his every movement. Now, though, they've become stronger, steadier, and more loyal. He was actually sad when Erica and Boyd were going to leave, but now that they've chosen to stay again, he's certainly not going to tell them. A soft alpha is a weak alpha, and they stop being respected. Laura was like that. Being that there was a grand total of two werewolves at that time, though (with Derek still thinking Peter was in a coma), there wasn't much of a reason Derek had for disobeying her.

"Does this mean we can start now?" Isaac asks, moving to drop beside Peter as well. Apparently he's gained everyone's trust again but for Derek's. Derek wishes he could tell if his uncle really was going to be a good little werewolf or try to take everything over again. They'd get along better. It so happens, though, that Peter is probably only being good because he's weak. Derek's _can_ sense the loyalty on his uncle, but he just wishes he knew how long it would last. "I'm so tired I'm about to pass out."

"Yes," Derek says, eyeing Jackson again.

"Don't give me that look," the newest werewolf snaps. "Danny has my car. Lydia had to pick me up."

"And did we really have to meet _here_?" Lydia asks snippily. "It's old, dusty, and _cold_."

Derek gives her the same look. Much as Stiles likes her, Jackson and Lydia are perfect for each other. They both think they're perfect and are both insufferable. "You have a better place?"

"I do, actually. My house." She gives him a look like he should have known that. "My parents don't _care_ what I do. I could have you _and_ Peter over and they would only give you guys a glance before offering you a glass of wine." She huffs.

Scott grins over at Stiles. "Maybe we could watch the movie there!" he says.

Allison frowns. "What movie?"

"We'll talk about it later," Peter says. "Derek looks like he's about to have an aneurism."

Derek rolls his eyes. "Thank you, Peter." He moves to go and lean against the stairs like Boyd was earlier so he can see everyone. He'd rather lean against something than stand up straight the entire time.

Stiles frowns and looks back at Erica. "You stopped."

"I'll give you another one later," she whispers back. "Pay attention."

Derek looks around at everyone before huffing through his nose. "Much as I'm sure you all enjoyed your three days of nothing to worry about, we've got another problem."

Stiles groans. "Al_ready_?"

Derek gives him a steady look. Most of the time he wants to punch the kid in the face (he will _never_ forgive him for the Miguel thing), but Derek can't deny that his optimistic outlook has helped get more than just Scott through things. Isaac and Lydia, mostly. Derek isn't good at showing any likable emotions (the thing he latches onto to keep his wolf at bay is _anger_, for fucks sake), but he has been trying to figure out a way to do it anyway. At least around Isaac, whose own latch is when his father actually treated him nice. Derek knows now that breaking his arm before his second full moon wasn't how to deal with him, but he really does need to be the soft alpha to get to him. There are five different love languages, and his may be physical touch, but it's certainly not the painful kind.

"Yes, already," Derek says just as steadily. "It's not a huge problem, though. I just want you all to be aware of it." When he's sure that everyone is listening again, he continues. "Do any of you own a cat?"

He's already discussed everything with Peter, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, so he's not surprised when he only gets confused looks and scents from Jackson, Scott, Stiles, Allison, and Lydia.

"My mom used to have one," Jackson says, "but it ran away after I came back."

Derek nods. "Good, because they're all going crazy."

Scott raises an eyebrow. "You brought us here to tell us that the _cats_ are going crazy? Why do _we_ have to worry about cats?"

Derek glances at him. "You haven't noticed because they always go crazy around you, but ask Deaton. They're terrified of anything that moves."

Lydia gives him a dull look. "Cats jump at everything. I know that and I don't even have one. Can we _go_ now?"

Derek rolls his eyes again. "That's not it. The cats are just going crazy, they're disappearing—and not running from us werewolves, either. For those of you who haven't been in the forest around my old place yet, their mangled bodies have been found all over the place. It's like they're running away, but before they get far enough, they're caught."

Allison gives a disgusted look. "Someone is capturing and killing the cats of Beacon Hills?"

"Just not Beacon Hills," Derek says. "One of the cats I found had a collar with an address two towns over."

"It's like they're flocking here," Peter adds.

"Flocking to their deaths?" Stiles asks. "Why would they do that?"

"We're not sure yet," Derek says. Then, to Scott, "Tell Deaton about it, okay? Maybe he could shed some light on the subject."

Scott nods. "Yeah, alright, he's good at that."

Derek nods. "If you find anymore cat bodies, don't touch them. They smelt…wrong. Nothing deadly, but nothing good either. Just be cautious, because anything that can get a cat to leave a place that feeds it—especially two towns over—is bad news enough, but ripping them apart to lie on the forest floor …" He shakes his head. "Way worse."

When he falls silent, Jackson coughs. "That's it?" he asks. "Mutilated cats. Cool. Can we go now?"

Derek eyes him darkly, eyes glowing. "Yes," he growls. "Get out before I throw you out."

Jackson jumps up. "You don't have to tell me twice." Little prick.

"Where's everyone going tonight?" Scott asks.

"Erica and I are gonna be at Lydia's," Allison says, "and Stiles is with you. I think, besides that, everyone is wherever home is."

Stiles jumps up from his spot on the subway steps. "Hey, wait!" He skids in front of Scott. "We could do the movie tonight!"

"Movie?" Lydia asks as she's walking towards the stairs after Jackson. "I like movies."

Scott frowns. "I don't know, man. Isaac already said that he was tired."

"Maybe not," Isaac says, stepping up beside him and then leaning down to rest his hands against his knees. "What movie?"

Stiles grins around at everyone, making sure to lock eyes with both Isaac and Jackson. "Independence Day."

Groans sound throughout the entire room, but Derek keeps his own love for the movie to himself. He likes watching movies that are never going to be a real life problem for him. He believes in a lot of things, but aliens are not one of them.

"I am _not_ watching that," Jackson growls.

"Well _I_ want to," Lydia says, stopping at the foot of the stairs. "My mom doesn't go to sleep until one every morning. I could call her and we could all watch it at my place right now."

Stiles grins and is about to say something, but he keeps his mouth shut when he notices the look that Jackson is giving him.

"That's a great idea!" Allison says, jumping up. "You've got that theater room in the basement, don't you?"

Lydia nods.

Scott grins and jumps up as well. "Can your house _get_ any cooler?"

She shrugs. "Probably."

Everyone moves to make their way upstairs but for Derek, Peter, and Isaac.

"Lydia did say that her mom wouldn't care about us," Peter says, elbowing Derek lightly. "Come on, it'll be fun. You love Independence Day."

Isaac smiles. "It's good, then? I've never seen it."

Peter grins as Derek's keeps his emotions unchanging. "It's settled, then. We'll go, too." He gives Isaac's shoulder a light shrug. "Get goin', kid. Hang out with your own age group."

Isaac looks up at Derek to make sure that that's okay (yeah, he's definitely Derek's favorite), and the alpha nods.

"It'll be fun," Peter says, moving to go up the stairs after Isaac. "Don't be such a party pooper."

"I've been to plenty of parties," Derek says as he follows up.

"Maybe, but you haven't had any fun at them."

"And _you_ would know that?"

"I didn't just follow Scott around when I was the alpha, you know."

Derek rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES…_

Stiles wakes with a start, looking around the dark room. Where is he? Where's his sleeping bag? Where's Scott's floor? Where's _Scott_? He remembers momentarily, though, when his eyes adjust to the dim light. He's in Lydia's basement, sprawled out over one of the three couches she has in front of the gigantic flat screen TV. When she said theater room, Stiles imagined a mini movie theater, but the place turned out to be a bunch of furniture in a classic messy, laundry room type of basement and all facing an expensive looking TV (that Stiles did _not_ buy her; he returned the last one, just like he said he would). It worked out great, though, because there was plenty of room for everyone to get comfortable for the movie.

Lydia's mom really didn't care about Derek or Peter, which is totally weird. He knows she does have the coolest parties with alcohol and all that, but he doesn't know many parents that are okay with their sixteen year old daughter hanging out with middle-aged men.

Currently everyone is asleep, and as Stiles is sprawled across one of the three couches, he's got his head resting in Erica's lap and his legs are sticking out over where Scott and Allison are squished into a corner. They got the middle couch, which easily holds four people, and if Stiles actually sat up they might be able to fit a fifth. Lydia is curled up against Jackson on the couch to the left, while Boyd is sitting up with his arms draped over the back of the couch and his head hanging over the back. Over on the other couch, Isaac is in the same position as Stiles is, with his head on Peter's lap as the oldest of their friends (is Peter a friend? Maybe a bit of one, but Stiles doesn't completely trust him quite yet) in the same position as Boyd. Isaac's legs are sticking out over Derek, who's—

"Oh," Stiles whispers at the glowing red in the darkness of the basement. "I didn't know anyone else was up. Do you know what time it is?"

"About three," Derek supplies quietly.

Stiles nods and moves as little as he can, rolling onto the floor, so he doesn't wake anyone. "Do you know where the bathroom is?"

"No."

Stiles sighs as he stands. "Great. Guess I'm going outside." There's a downstairs door in the basement, leading out to a little stairwell that leads up to the pool.

"Don't wake anyone."

"Why do you think I'm going outside instead of clumping around upstairs?"

He silently opens and closes the door before taking the concrete steps two at a time, moving out of the gate at the far end. He sighs as he goes, but not a relieved sigh. The movie was good, but Jackson wouldn't stop kissing Lydia, even though she was ignoring him to watch the movie just as intently. Do they always have to do that? He knows Jackson doesn't give a shit about his feelings, but Lydia at least cares a little bit, so she should have the tiniest bit of decency to keep their relationship on the down low when Stiles is around.

He walks back into the gate, closing it like it was before he got to it. He loves the night. He loves staring up at the stars. He doesn't have much of a love for the moon, but… He sighs, sitting down on one of the pool chairs instead of going back down to the basement. He _knows_ he's jealous of all of his friends. Werewolves, immunity, and a damn good shot with a bow. And what does he have? A knack for annoying the hell out of people and an undying need for sarcasm.

He knows he'll never get the bite, though. Even when Peter offered it (so casually, too), he knew he wanted it deep down, but he also knows he _doesn't_ want it. Maybe, as a human that associates with werewolves, he wishes he could be a werewolf so he could protect himself better. As a human, though, he's not the one that's being hunted. Sure, he gets beat up sometimes, but at least the Argent's aren't going to _kill_ him. He's pretty sure that Gerard was the only one that would have, and now that he's dead, Stiles is generally safe.

"What are you doing?"

Stiles barely keeps from yelping at the way that Derek just _appears_ in front of him. "I'm not tired anymore," he says, dragging a hand down his face.

"You shouldn't be out here alone this late," the alpha says.

Stiles cocks an eyebrow. "Why? I'm not completely outside. There's a brick wall surrounding me. Nothing's going to come out of the pool and eat me, you know."

Derek rolls his glowing red eyes. They must always glow in the dark like that, because he doesn't look angry—just annoyed, which is no surprise. "You don't know that."

"I'm not going inside yet, okay? So I like looking at the stars every once in a while. Lay off."

He raises an eyebrow. "That's what you're doing? Looking at the stars?"

Stiles shrugs. "If you're so worried about me," he says sarcastically sweet, "then pick another chair and watch 'em with me."

Derek stares at him for what seems like ages before doing just that, but he certainly doesn't look happy while he does it.

"You bother me, you know that?" Stiles says as he continues to stare up at the dark sky.

The werewolf snorts. "_I_ bother _you_?"

"I'm not saying that _I_ don't bother people, okay? I'm just saying that I've literally only seen you smile twice, and one of those times was a trick so I could get passed the jail lady."

Derek is silent for a moment. "What was the other time?"

"When Erica got into your car. I think you were wearing sunglasses."

He nods. "And that matters to you why?"

"It matters to me because you're such a fucking sourwolf that nobody ever wants to be around you."

"Isaac and Peter do."

"Peter does because you're his nephew, and Isaac does because of pack mentality." He glances over at him. "Don't give me that red-eyed look, you creep. I did the research. I know more about it than Scott even does."

Derek hums a little. "Really?"

"Yes _really_. Just because my grade sucks in Harris' class doesn't mean that all the rest do."

"Oh? I expected you to be failing all of them."

"Har-har. I have a three-point-oh GPA, thank you. Lots of B-things and that single F."

Derek sounds like he's about to say something else, but Stiles cuts him off by shoving at his shoulder and pointing at the sky. "Look, look, a shooting star! Make a wish, sourwolf." He doesn't know if Derek actually does, but Stiles squeezes his eyes shut tight. He usually wishes for things involving Lydia, but maybe if he's less specific it will have a better chance of coming true.

_I wish for, um…_ He thinks, trying to think as broadly as possible. _I wish that the person of my dreams would love with me back._ Yeah, perfect. He looks over at Derek with a grin. "What did you wish f—no, wait, don't tell me. Wishes don't come true if you tell someone what you wished for."

Derek raises an eyebrow again. "Where did you learn _that_?"

Stiles shrugs, sitting up. "I can't remember. But, _now_ I'm tired." He shoves at Derek's shoulder again. "Aren't you glad you sat with me now? You got a wish out of it!"

"I didn't wish for anything."

Stiles _tsks_. "No wonder I call you sourwolf. Gonna come back in?"

"In a minute," he says, sitting up.

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Whatever happened to 'shouldn't be out alone this late'?"

"I said _you_ shouldn't be. I'm an alpha and you're a human. You need more protection than I do."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "I'm not sure if I should be offended or glad that you care, but I'm just going to be offended and go back to sleep." He starts to walk away before Derek can say anything to his face, but the wolf just says it to his back instead:

"You talk in your sleep, you know."

Stiles instantly feels embarrassed, turning around to glare. He _knows_ what he was dreaming about. "Keep that to yourself."

Derek rolls his eyes, standing. "Everybody knows, Stiles, but Erica is right. She doesn't want you, and you really don't want to be that much of a second choice. Move _on_."

Stiles rolls his own eyes, turning around again. "I am so not taking advice from the King of Glaring. I'll see you later, Derek." He keeps moving towards the stairs.

Yes, Derek Hale annoys the crap out of him. He hardly ever smiles, he doesn't laugh, and Isaac told him that he once broke his arm just because he was pissing him off a bit. What kind of a person does that? Yeah, okay, most of Derek's family was burned in his own house and then he had to kill his uncle, but does that really give him the right to be a total dick to everyone? At the very least he could show some patience to his pack.

Stiles gives an aggravated sigh before silencing himself and sneaking back into the basement, and as far as he can tell, everyone is still asleep. He goes to get back into his earlier position, but in the process, Erica's yellow eyes snap open.

"Sorry," Stiles whispers. "I had to pee."

"I've been awake since Derek left," she says, curling up into the corner of the couch. "Here." She pats her hip. "You can use me as a pillow some more."

Stiles swallows tightly before just doing it; she's in jeans, so it's not like he's going to be caressing her bare thigh. He already fell asleep in her lap, so it's not that different. "Why _are_ you being nice to me, anyway?" he whispers.

His eyes are adjusted enough that he can see the smile she gives him. "I'll tell you in the morning. You just get some more sleep for now. I had a nap before, but you didn't."

Stiles nods, settling down against her. He's surprised when her hand comes back and rubs lightly at his back, but he likes it enough that he doesn't stop her. She said she'd tell him why she's being nice tomorrow, so until then, he'll just relax.

What's Derek doing, though?

* * *

End chapter notes: Alright, 1st chapter over! I did Derek to the best of my ability, but I am really fucking bad at people who don't show emotions. I write a lot of Avenger's stuff too, and let me tell you, Loki is a challenge. I did what I could, though, and hopefully he turned out fine enough! Anyway a few other things:

1. The five love languages? That's actually a book called The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman. The 5 different ones are "words of affirmation" (wherein the person feels most loved with praise and shit, so for example we've got Jackson), "acts of service" (wherein actions speak louder than words), "receiving gifts" (wherein the person feels most loved when they receive something), "quality time" (wherein the person feels most loved when they have you undivided attention, so I guess Lydia if we've got to narrow her down) and "physical touch" (wherein the person feels most love when they're being touched, like someone is holding their hand or rubbing their back or something like that, and that would be Isaac and Stiles). It sounds kinda dumb but it's actually really cool, and you can totally go to the website and take a super easy free test thing that tells you what you are. I myself am quality time. Not sure if any of you people are into taking random quizzes, but the website is 5-love-languages-.-com. Take out all the dashes and brackets of course. This website is terrible with links; shame on it!

2. Gosh I'm excited to reveal what the actual monster thing is… I was looking up random mythical creatures, right? I didn't want it all to be the exact same as the whole kanima problem in season 2, so I wanted to make it as different as I could with all new problems. I thought cats worked quite nicely against the werewolves, not to mention I found the absolute coolest mythical cat thing. Anyway! I'll give you guys links to the arts and stuff I referenced it from so you can know just what I'm talking about when I reveal it!

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	2. Mrs Norris

**2: Mrs. Norris**

_STILES  
Saturday, May 25…_

Mr. Martin cooks breakfast for everyone the next morning, and then everyone but Lydia and Allison head out in what cars they have. Derek crams Jackson, Isaac, and Boyd in so he can take Jackson and Boyd home, and Peter crams Stiles, Scott, and Erica so he can drop all three of them off at Scott's place. Erica was originally going to stay at Lydia's, but she opted to come hang out with Stiles and Scott so they could work on the homework they have due when they go back to school from the weekend. It's Saturday now, and Scott has his grades to get up.

"Shit," Scott breathes as Peter pulls up to the house. "My mom."

Peter grins. "Shit for you, maybe." He turns the car off, and Scott quick gets out as his mom swings the front door open.

"SCOTT!" she yells. "Where have you _been_? I checked on you and Stiles an hour ago and the room was empty! You need to _tell_ me when you're going places!"

"Sorry, mom," Scott says as Stiles squeezes out.

"Sorry Ms. McCall," Stiles echoes.

She gives an aggravated sigh. "It's _fine_," she says, pushing her hair out of her eyes, "Just…don't do it again. Who are you _with_, anyway?"

Stiles hears Peter chuckle in the car. "That's my cue," he says, swinging his door open. "Good morning, Melissa!"

Her eyes widen _very_ wide, and Stiles and Scott exchange disgusted looks. "Peter!" she exclaims. "I thought you were dead! I mean…" She coughs, and Stiles can physically see her trying to remember that everything in her life is weird now. "I meant hi. Hi."

Peter gives a dazzling smile and moves to walk to the porch, instantly being invited in.

"Peter has a crush on your _mom_?" Erica asks Scott as she crawls out of the car.

"He initially used her to get to me," Scott mutters, "but it seems like it's real, now."

Stiles sighs, closing the door after Erica. "I might have to punch him in the face with_out_ his permission now."

"No, don't," Scott says, pushing a hand through his hair. "Peter's on our side now, right? And my mom already knows about the whole werewolf and kanima thing, so she might as well date a werewolf."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up as they all head towards the house. "You actually trust him now?"

"It's complicated."

"Not for me," Erica says, giving the house an admiring glance. "I can sense the loyalty on him, too."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Another werewolf thing. Great."

Scott's mom calls for all of them to come into the kitchen when they close the front door, and she smiles first at Scott and Stiles before giving a much more surprised smile to Erica. "Wow, new friends left and right!" she says, but Stiles hears the somewhat strained tone in her voice, which means the others probably do as well. "I'm Scott's mom," she says with a smile, holding her hand out to shake Erica's. "You can call me Melissa."

"It's lovely to meet you," Erica says sweetly. "I'm Erica. I met Scott and Stiles through Isaac."

"Isaac…" she muses. "Oh, Scott, isn't Isaac on the team as well?"

"Yeah!" Scott says almost too quickly.

She gives him a knowing look. "You're not _all_…um…are you?"

Stiles throws his hands up. "I'm not!"

She groans a little, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Were you _really_ just out having breakfast to get to know Peter before we went on another date, then?"

Stiles and the two younger werewolves snap their heads to look at the previous alpha, who gives a guilty smile. "I didn't know she knew about it yet."

Scott sighs, moving to sit beside her. "It was a pack meeting," he says.

She sits up straight, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Who all, that you're friends with, is a werewolf? I just…I need to know who all of them are or I'm going to go crazy. And I thought you said that you weren't part of a pack. You are now?"

"No, no, we just all talk together when something comes up."

Her eyes widen. "Something _new_ has come up?"

Scott sighs, turning around to the others. "As much as you like her," he says to Peter, "you guys can go out later tonight or something, okay?"

"Well, I can be helpful here," he says, moving to sit on her other side. "She deserves to know everything, and I'm a part of that."

"Uh, we'll be in your room," Stiles says to Scott. "We'll start on the homework."

Scott gives him a weird look—one of those weird looks that teenage boys know exactly that it means "do you guys like each other or something", and Stiles gives a fervent shake of his head. So they ditch off while Scott and Peter tell Ms. McCall everything in more depth, closing the bedroom door.

"Cute," Erica says, looking around.

Stiles shrugs, picking up his backpack to pull out his chemistry book to at least make it look like they're doing something. "So I thought of a plan to suggest you to Boyd on the way here," Stiles says, kicking his sleeping bag out of the way.

"Oh?" she says, sitting down on the bed. "Well, in that case, I should probably tell you who I _really_ want to get with."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up, setting the book out on the bed. "Wait, not Boyd?"

She shakes her head no. "It was so Derek wouldn't be suspicious that it's actually him."

Stiles groans, turning to the right page. "You've got to be kidding me. _Derek_? He'll never want you, Erica. He'll never want _anybody_."

She raises an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

"I say it because the guy has little to no happy emotions." He moves to sit beside her and the book on the bed. "He probably doesn't even get off on his own hand."

"Maybe that's true, but he did kiss me back once."

Both of Stiles' eyebrows rise. "You guys have kissed?"

"It was a training exercise. I was trying to use the element of surprise. He kissed me back for about two seconds and then shoved me back on the ground."

"So…" He lowers one of the eyebrows. "He _is_ attracted to people?"

She laughs, leaning back on her elbows. "Who wouldn't be attracted to me?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Right, still confident. Why do you want _him_, though? He's like…the dick of all dicks."

She gives her own good natured eye roll and pats the space beside her for him to lean back as well. "I want him because he gave me everything. Sure, life is hectic, and Boyd and I almost left, but that's okay. We're all a pack and we'll do everything we can to get through it. That's why Boyd and I chose to stay after we escaped from the Argent's basement. We all need each other. It's dangerous, but we do."

Stiles blinks a bit. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but that reason for your crush turned into a reason for your loyalty. Wanna start over?"

She breathes a laugh—a _nervous_ laugh, and for a split second, the old Erica shines through. Stiles actually misses that seizer prone girl a bit… Not the seizer prone part, but it was nice when she wasn't more of a conceited bitch than shy. "Remember the outfit I wore the first time I went to school after he changed me?"

Stiles stares straight into her eyes. "Yes. Yes, I do."

"He bought me that."

Stiles frowns. "Derek picked out _leopard_ print heels?"

She laughs louder. "I said he bought it, not picked it out. But actually, yes, he did pick those out."

Stiles tries to picture Derek going shopping, and then he tries to picture him shopping with Erica like they really _are_ dating, and then he tries to picture what's going through his head to buy _leopard_ print when he's a were_wolf_.

"Are you sure he doesn't like you already?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "Derek's not like that. If he liked somebody, he'd do everything he could to protect it. Not subtly, either. He'd pull an Edward Cullen and watch you while you were sleeping. It's a werewolf thing, to protect your mate more than yourself."

"Alright, then how did you get passed him with the lying? Telling me that you wanted to get with Boyd and not him, I mean."

"I didn't _say_ that I wanted to get with Boyd, did I?"

Stiles thinks back to her exact words. "No, you…you said you'd give me a massage if I helped you get with him." He gives a nod of approval. "Very nice."

She smiles. "I know. Now, has your plan stayed the same?"

Stiles shakes his head. "Not even a bit. Derek and Boyd are completely different people that I see at completely different times unless it involves important werewolf things that I'm usually not a part of."

Erica's smile twists upside down. "Not a part of? Stiles, you've been a part of every last werewolf thing since Scott was turned. Why would you even think like that?"

He sighs. "Because I'm literally the only normal human in the entire 'pack'. Allison is the daughter of the hunters and therefore knows how to shoot an arrow and some combat moves, and Lydia is immune to everything and is fucking _brilliant_. And then there's _me_." He pushes his arms up and underneath the pillow his head is on. "The sheriff's kid with no cool abilities _whatsoever_."

Stiles is completely caught off guard when she plants a soft kiss on his cheek. "You think you're useless, and I think that's stupid. You're my Batman, remember?"

Stiles can't help but smile. "Know what? I'm glad you're not hitting me over the head with car parts."

She laughs. "Don't get used to it. Who _knows_ what this whole cat thing will bring up between our two packs."

Stiles's smile turns to a frown. "Yeah, good point. I wonder how weird Scott feels to be leading a pack of humans…"

"Technically he's only leading you. Allison tends to do what she wants, and if Lydia is in any pack it's Derek's, since Jackson is in that one."

"Another good point. What time is it now?"

"Nearly noon."

He sighs, sitting up. "I should probably be getting home now."

She nods, sitting up beside him. "I suppose I'll head back to my own home as well. Maybe this time my parents will notice that I was gone."

Stiles gives her a sad smile. "You know, I think… I think my dad would be okay if you came over. You know, if you wanted. We could play video games or something."

She returns his smile in kind before looking down at her hands, playing with all ten fingers. "I've never played a video game before."

Stiles' jaw drops. "Then you _have_ to come over."

She looks back up at him. "Maybe later, okay? Little as my parents and I appreciate each other, I do want to make sure they're safe."

Stiles gives an understanding nod. "Yeah, that's fine. Do you want a ride?"

"No, we live in opposite directions."

"Really?"

She nods as they swing off the bed, Stiles putting away the book they never used. They each wave goodbye to Scott, Peter, and a Melissa, who's slowly coming to a complete understanding of things that have ever gone on around Beacon Hills.

"I'll see you later, then," Stiles says, waving in turn to Erica.

"Yeah, at school," Erica says, tapping his nose with a clawed finger.

Stiles nods as they turn away from each other, and Stiles moves to get to the drivers side of his car from where he is on the passenger side. Getting Erica with _Derek_? That's going to be impossible! Fine, the guy is actually capable of lust, but that doesn't mean he's actually going to act on it—and especially with a pack member. For some reason, Stiles just sees Derek as the kind of guy who'd like to date someone who doesn't have a clue what's going on in his real life, just so he can get away from everything every once in a while. Problem is that that relationship wouldn't last long since whatever chick would be all pissy that he was busy and hanging out with attractive teenagers, so maybe not—

"Holy _shit_!" he says, scrambling away from his car once he does get to the other side. For, attached to this side's mirror by a tattered red collar, is one of the very mangled cats that Derek called the meeting for. "Erica!" he yells, voice cracking a little on even the one word. "Erica, come back!"

She's there instantly, and Peter has sprinted out of the house as well, both of them wide-eyed. Scott is back in the door with his mom, probably saying something about what last night's meeting was about if they haven't already gotten to that.

"I'll get Derek," Peter says, quick getting to his car, no doubt to drive to a place that he can howl to Derek while _not_ being in broad daylight.

Scott comes over a second later, eyes glowing yellow. "I told her she doesn't want to see this," he says about his mom. "Why is it on your car?"

"I don't know!" Stiles says, throwing his arms up. "It could have been here all night for all we know! Peter parked on my passenger side, we came from my passenger side… We've never had to be on this side at all. It could have been put here while we were still inside."

"No, I would have smelt it," Scott says. "It had to have been after we went to the meeting."

"Wouldn't you have smelt it when we got back, then?"

He shakes his head. "I was too busy sniffing you guys and panicking about the fact that my mom still has a crush on a homicidal werewolf."

"Yeah, uh…how'd you tell her that, anyway?"

He sighs, his eyes melting away to his usual color. "We didn't. I trust him enough that I'd rather them be together than my mom not wanting him around at all. Maybe he can protect her, you know?"

"That's true, people _do_ keep threatening her," Stiles muses. "Why didn't _you_ smell it?" he asks Erica.

"Because I've only been here once before and didn't get a huge chance to look around. I was still used to the scents, so it just mixed in."

Stiles sighs, dragging a hand down his face. "But why is it on _my_ car?" he mutters.

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

"But why is it on _your_ car?" Isaac asks.

The way that all four of Erica, Scott, Stiles, _and_ Mrs. McCall (who has insisted that everyone but her son call her Melissa) give a groan is almost comical, but Derek doesn't have time for that.

"You two," he says to Isaac and Erica since Boyd and Jackson are home by now, "go sniff around to see if there are any others. If there are more then Stiles is safe, but if not…"

Stiles pales a little. He's pretty pale on his own, but now he's like paper. "If not what?"

"We'll deal with that in a minute," Derek says. "Go."

His two werewolves flit off, staying as inconspicuous as they can in broad daylight.

He looks back at Stiles. "Your dad is still in the dark about all of this, right?"

Stiles swallows tightly and gives a stiff nod. "Yeah," he says.

"Are you _going_ to tell him?"

The teen purses his lips and looks down at where he's kicking at the concrete. "No."

"Good," Melissa says as she wraps her arms around his shoulders. "I think he'd have a heart attack. Why I haven't yet, I don't know. It's taken a lot for me to accept this."

Scott and Peter both raise skeptical eyebrows. "You _have_ accepted it?" they ask in unison.

She sighs, eyeing each of them in turn. "I'm starting to."

"Hey, did anyone notice the collar?" Peter asks, having leaned towards it for whatever reason.

Derek crosses his arms. "That's what's holding it up, so yes."

"No, I mean the name on it."

Stiles frowns, leaning in—and, unexpectedly, he chuckles. "It says 'Mrs. Norris'," he says. "It's the caretaker's cat from Harry Potter."

"That 'caretaker' is named Mr. Filch," Erica says, her and Isaac having returned, a plastic bag in Isaac's hand. Derek can smell the dead flesh inside. "I didn't know you read."

He shrugs. "Funnily enough, video games do get boring every now and again."

"Yes, well, I didn't used to have friends, so—"

"Enough about fictional characters," Derek snaps. "You found more?"

Erica and Isaac exchange sad looks. "Two more," Isaac says, "but nowhere that's very helpful."

Stiles swallows again, letting Melissa continue to hold him. Derek doesn't blame him. He knows what it's like not to have a real mother anymore. "What does that mean? Where did you find them?"

"We went a little further than just around," Erica says, "like your house and the police station…"

"One was hanging from the back door of the house," Isaac continues, "and the other was on the ground beneath it."

"We grabbed them both so his dad wouldn't see," Erica says.

Stiles knees give out a little, and Erica quick moves to help hold him up alongside of Melissa. "But why _me_?"

"You _were_ talking about how you're the only human in the packs that doesn't have anything special," Erica says. "While I disagree, they might not."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up at her. "Way to boost my self-esteem, Catwoman."

She smirks before tapping the tip of his nose with a clawed finger. "Anytime, Batman."

Derek's blinks at them, eyes slightly narrowed. Are they…? No, he'd be able to smell it. He distinctly heard that she wants help to get to Boyd, anyway. They're just getting closer because they're helping each other with relationships and sore muscles.

"The point is," Isaac says, "is that Stiles can't be alone anymore."

Stiles gives Isaac a confused look before looking up at Derek. "What does he mean?"

"That you need constant protection," he replies, uncrossing his arms to shove his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. "Whatever it is that's doing this, they've obviously chosen you for something. Maybe to get through you to get to us werewolves, maybe because you fascinate them _for_ hanging out with so many werewolves… Whatever the reason, you're probably in danger of ending up like these cat, so we'll need to break out the buddy system for you. The werewolves can all take turns watching over you."

Stiles cringes. "Please don't make Jackson watch over me."

"He'll have to if the rest of us aren't able to," Scott says, "but I'll try to never let it get to that point."

Stiles nods his appreciation. "Thanks, man."

"What happens now, then?" Melissa asks as she and Erica slowly let Stiles go so he can stand on his own. "We just…go back to normal?"

"I could watch over him first," Erica says, linking their arms together. "We've already been hanging out since the meeting."

Derek nods and moves to cross his arms again. He always feels safest that way. "Sounds good."

"How long should turns be?" Isaac asks, his arms crossed as well. Actually, he's in the exact same position as Derek, with his arms crossed and equal weight on semi-spread legs. He has to resist the urge to grin at the kid. Betas are adorable.

"As long as they need to be," Peter says, taking the bag from Isaac so he can get the third feline off of Stiles' Jeep. "We don't need to set a schedule. Whoever's available can stick to him like glue, and when they get tired of him, they can make an excuse to go somewhere else and then quick call somebody else to take over for them."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "Love you too, Pete."

Peter has never been partial to nicknames, so the yellow-eyed glare that he gives Stiles is no surprise. "Maybe _I'll_ take the first shift," he says. "You still want to punch me, right?"

Derek rolls his eyes. "_Enough_," he snaps. "We have other stuff to do, and I'm pretty sure Scott has to get to work soon."

Scott sighs. "I almost forgot. Peter, could you finish telling my mom everything?"

Peter gives Melissa one of his dazzling smiles. "I'd love to."

Both Scott and Stiles exchange disgusted looks, and Derek would probably join them if he had more of a relationship with either of the other adults. Being that his uncle has been in a coma for the past six years and then tried to kill everyone, they're not exactly _close_.

"It's settled, then," Derek says, motioning for Isaac to get into his Camaro. "Erica first. Don't blow it."

Erica gives him a smirk of a smile. "Don't worry, he's not my type."

Melissa's jaw drops at the blowjob joke, Stiles is too busy saying something to Scott, and Peter and Isaac actually giggle a little. Derek, of course, just rolls his eyes. Adorable as betas are, they're twice as annoying.

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES…_

"Okay, I _definitely_ have a plan now!" Stiles says excitedly, looking over to where Erica has been playing Super Princess Peach on his Nintendo DS for the last two and a half hours. It's five after six in the evening now, and if his dad told him that he went into work at ten when Stiles called him to check up and also ask about any weird cat stuff (apparently the station has yet to find out about any of the bodies, but they have had lots of cats filed as missing), then he's going to be here within…very soon.

"You've literally been saying that every half hour for the last four hours, Stiles," Erica says without looking away from the way her fingers are frantically clicking. For someone who's never played video games before, she's a natural. It's probably the werewolf reflexes—actually, it _definitely_ is since she keeps complaining about how slow everything is—but still.

"No, this time I really think I've got one!"

She pauses the game and rolls onto her back so she can sit up from her spot on the bed. Apparently she likes his smell, so she wants to be close to his pillows. Werewolves are weird. "Fine, tell me."

He grins. "It's a multiple part plan, but I really think it'll work. Derek has a power complex a mile high, right? So if we just make _you_ super impressive, then he'll be impressed with you and start to actually like you!"

She raises an eyebrow. "_That's_ what you came up with?"

He rolls his eyes. "Just hear me out. What we do is stage some sort of threat, like maybe Jackson gets pissed off at me, and then you come in and save me! He's not going to want to help, but I'll promise to stop looking at Lydia for, like, a week or something. He's gotten really protective over her now that he's actually a werewolf. Derek already doesn't like Jackson, so he might as well hate him some more, right? So, you beat Jackson up, save me, and boom! Phase one complete and Derek starts to respect you more. He's not going to crush on someone he doesn't respect, and being that he's a dick of an alpha, he probably doesn't give his betas near enough of that." He frowns. "Actually, he seems to like Isaac a lot, but that might just be because he was the first one that he turned… Actually, it might have been Jackson, but being that that all went to hell, he doesn't feel near of the same connection. Anyway!" He throws his hands up. "What'dyuh think?"

Erica blinks at him for a long while, but a smile actually spreads across her mouth. "You've got a very good point with the respect thing, so yes, it's a good start."

He grins. "Great."

"Can I keep playing now?"

Stiles sits up straighter in his desk chair when he hears the front door open, and Erica perks up as well.

"Nope," Stiles says. "You've got to meet my dad first."

"I could sneak out of the window and call Isaac."

"Well, you _could_, but you might be here a lot more, so you might as well."

She nods, closing the DS. "Good point."

"You should, ah…pull your shirt up a bit."

She smirks. "A little indecently low, is it?"

He stares directly into her eyes. "Just a little."

They make their way downstairs, and Stiles' dad gives him a greeting without turning around as he starts to make dinner. "Heyuh, son. How was Scott's house?"

Stiles and Erica exchange a grin. "It was great, dad," he says. "I, uh, want you to meet someone, though."

His dad glances over his shoulder before turning back to the stove. "Yeah, just give me a—" He whirls around in a double-take, the pan of soon to be boiling water in hand. "Oh."

Stiles smiles, and Erica gives her own dazzling one. "Uh, this is Erica. We go to school together."

"Hi!" he says, quick setting the pan back down. "I'm Stiles' dad, obviously." He holds his hand out.

Erica smiles, taking it and shaking it. Meeting two parents in one day? How stressful. Stiles would probably pass out. "It's nice to meet you. I'm one of Isaac's friends."

"Ah, Isaac! Good kid, good kid." He nods and looks at Stiles. "What happened to that Lydia girl?"

Stiles groans a little. "Dad, first off, Erica and I are just friends. She's actually just here so I can help her get with…someone else." He glances at her, and she chuckles a little. "And secondly, if I ever bring someone home that I actually _do_ like, how about we _don't_ mention the previous girls I've had crushes on. Please?"

His dad gives a guilty look. "Right, of course, sorry. You still like Lydia, then?"

Stiles rolls his eyes, but Erica giggles a little. "Yes," she says, answering for him. "He definitely still has a crush on her."

Stiles glares at her a little. "Traitor."

She turns her smile to his dad again. "Anyway, I should probably get going."

"Oh, no, that's fine!" his dad says, turning back around to the stove. "I always end up making too much food anyway. We'd be happy to have you for dinner."

She smiles brightly. "I'd love to!"

"Right, cool," Stiles says, twisting his fingers together. "We'll be up in my room. We've still got chemistry homework to work on."

His dad nods. "I'll call you when it's ready."

They disappear back up the stairs, closing his bedroom door. "I'm glad you decided to stay," he says as Erica moves to pick the DS up again. "It would have been really annoying to explain why somebody else was suddenly coming over for a sleepover."

"Relax," she says, rolling her eyes. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere."

Stiles frowns. "You knew he'd invite you to stay?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Have you _ever_ had a girl over?"

"Lydia only showed up once, but other than that…" He twists his fingers together some more. "No."

She gives a disappointed look. "A back massage is nothing compared to helping me get a boyfriend, Stiles. I can help you find somebody _besides_ Lydia."

Stiles sighs as he sits down beside her, remembering the wish he made last night...

_I wish that the person of my dreams would love with me back._

"I don't think I'm ready for that, you know? I mean…" He sighs again. "It'll hurt too much."

"You can't let her dictate your life anymore, Stiles—not when she's in love with Jackson. I _know_ that you don't want to be that much of a second choice, so just let me help you!"

Stiles purses his lips, actually pulling out his chemistry homework. He might as well do it while he can. "I'll think about it, okay? Just give me a couple of days. Maybe the next time I see her I'll have this undying need to make out with somebody else for once."

She chuckles, un-pausing her game. "Deal."

* * *

End chapter notes: Alright, 2nd chapter over! I already have another plot twist lined up in my head. This is great. No I will not tell you what it is! Also I'm a nerd so that's going to shove into here at multiple points whoops. Still excited to show off the cat creature I picked out :) There'll be a few things I'll make up about it, too, but I'll make sure I list out what those things are in the notes of whatever chapter it's in.

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	3. Plans

**3: Plans**

Quick note: So I've started watching season 3 now (everything is going to stay the same as if it hasn't happen though), and apparently the cats get mangled in that too. Look at me, being all psychic and shit! Also I'm pretending that, instead of Derek being in love with Paige, they were just really good friends and he wanted them to stay friends forever and blah yada blah. So yeah okay anyway carry on.

* * *

_DEREK  
Sunday (late evening), May 26…_

Derek glances up as Erica and Boyd walk down the stairs to the subway station (it's not, of course, but they tend to call it that for lack of something better; warehouse works as well, but it gets boring for the others), and Isaac grins as he drops down from the ceiling.

"I _knew_ you still liked him," he says with a grin.

Erica raises an eyebrow in confusion, but laughs when she realizes what he's saying. "Stiles and I? No." She grins over at Derek. "I've got someone else in mind for him."

Derek raises his own eyebrow, leaning up from the town map he's got laid out to map out where all the dead cats have turned up in red ink. Anywhere with a generally large amount of trees is almost complete red, and especially by the lake in the forest near Derek's old house. Peter (who obviously doesn't come to these training sessions, seeing that Derek learned a lot of what he knows from his uncle anyway) thinks that whatever it is has a thing for water, but he and Derek have yet to investigate the theory.

"You actually think he'll move on from Lydia?" he asks.

She shrugs. "He said he'd get back to me on it. I'm giving him until tomorrow."

"Who do you have in mind for him, though?" Isaac asks.

She grins, keeping her mouth shut.

Boyd rolls his eyes. "She was talking about it the entire run here, but she won't give me any names."

She giggles, flipping over the table that the map is on. "And you'll never know!" She continues to move to her usual spot beside the stairs that lead onto the subway. "I do have something else that I can tell you, though."

"Something better than endless training that ends in even more yelling?" Boyd asks hopefully.

Derek gives him a pointed look, but the beta just gives him a shrug as if to say that Derek knows he's right.

"Definitely better," she says. "Remember that rave we all had to go to so we could bring down Jackson's kanima form?"

"What about me?"

The four werewolves look up as Jackson makes his way down the stairs. "The old you," Boyd says.

The Pretty Boy cringes. "Oh."

"_Anyway_," Erica stresses. "They're having another rave this Friday night, in a different place and with lower priced tickets after one of the last ticket takers got killed."

Jackson gives a tiny groan. "I'm good, but thanks."

"I think you should go," she says, almost pleads. "You're not okay, Jackson. You've practically exhausted yourself trying to get over—"

"Shut up," he hisses.

"Hey man, don't do that," Boyd snaps. "She's just trying to help."

"I don't need your _help_," Jackson snaps in turn. "I've got Lydia, she'll—"

"She'll what?" Isaac asks in exasperation. "Kiss your pain away? That's not how it works. She can't _always_ be kissing you."

"I don't _need_ her to always be—"

"_Enough_!" Derek snarls.

The four betas silence instantly.

"You guys are embarrassing," he mutters, leaning back against the table.

Erica smiles. "Does that mean we can go?"

Derek's eyes glow for a split second. "No."

Isaac gives a sad look. "I think it's a good idea. Paralytic replies and mangled cats? I don't know about you guys, but I need a break."

Boyd nods, crossing his arms. He's standing the same way that Derek always does as well. Adorable. Jackson just cringes again, leaning against the railing with one arm wrapped across his chest to hold onto his other wrist. It's actually kind of nice to see him off his usual game instead of being twice the asshole Derek tends to be.

"We're not going," Derek repeats.

"Please?" Isaac asks softly. "You don't have to come with us. We'll invite Scott and the others. No kanima threat, no hunters…" He shrugs. "I mean, I literally can't even remember the last time I had any real fun."

Derek sighs, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "As long as I don't have to go as well, fine."

All but Jackson give a whoop, followed by Boyd giving Jackson a pat on the back. "Just invite Lydia," he says. "You can hole up in a corner or something."

Jackson rolls his eyes. "Whatever."

Isaac grins, looking over at Erica. "Is Stiles with Scott?"

She nods.

"Good," Derek says, cracking his knuckles. "Because right now, we have work to do."

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES…_

"So."

Stiles yelps, using his cafeteria tray as a shield. Thankfully he's already eaten everything, or he'd be covered in what he didn't.

"It's just Erica, stupid," Scott says, motioning to whosever behind the tray.

Stiles peaks over it and grins. "Oh. Hi."

Currently he's seated at a table with Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, and Isaac, and now that Erica has joined them, Boyd sits down on her other side.

"Did you think about it?" Erica asks.

Stiles ducks his head. "Think about what?" he mutters.

She flicks his ear.

"Alright, alright," he says, batting her hand away before she does it again. "Yes, I thought about it."

She raises a hopeful eyebrow. "And?"

He sighs, looking down at his empty tray. He's still hungry. "Yes, you can help me."

She whoops and throws her arms around his neck, and Stiles tries to ignore the questioning looks that everyone—especially Lydia—is sending their way. On the bright side of this somewhat awkward moment, though, Stiles is definitely starting to like to nice Erica more and more. The Erica that would hit him over the head with his own car parts would have simply nodded and taken any of his food if he had any, but hugs? Yeah, he can work with hugs.

"I haven't told them yet," Isaac suddenly says, grinning at Erica. "I figured you would want to."

She smiles, patting his cheek. "So polite of you." Then, to the others: "You guys remember that rave we had to go to?"

Stiles definitely notices the way Allison shows her internal groan, and he understands that completely. She did go with Matt, after all.

"The one most of us almost died at?" Scott asks.

"_Also_ the one that I actually did something right at?" Stiles asks, remembering the mountain ash.

"Yes," Erica says with a nod. "That one."

"I must have missed that one," Lydia says with a huff. "What about it?"

"They're having another one this Friday. Derek said we should go. You know, get our minds off things. Relax a bit."

Stiles narrows his eyes a little. "Derek said that? Really?"

"Not in those exact words, no," Jackson says, inspecting Lydia's nails. What kind of a boyfriend inspects his girlfriends nails?

Boyd shoves at his shoulder. "Why do you always have to be such a dick? You're not the only one out of us who's gone through shit, you know."

Scott nods as he takes a sip of whatever he's got to drink. "You are, though, the only one who's done it with a Porsche."

Stiles grins. He loves his friends.

"It's settled, then!" Erica says brightly. "We're all going! And _you_…" She leans down to Stiles' ear. "I'll find someone to invite so you can meet them there."

Stiles rolls his eyes a little, knowing that every last damn werewolf is listening in. "Do you have to?"

"Already said I could, kiddo," she says, rubbing a hand over the top of his head. His hair has grown a bit since he first started high school, but he still keeps it pretty short. Now, though, he can at least style it a little. "No backing out now."

Stiles gives a somber nod. "And _I_ will put what I can of phase one of our plan into action for the in between time."

Jackson raises an eyebrow. "You guys have a plan? I didn't know you planned things, Stiles."

Stiles grins. "Jackson, how'd you like to make a deal?"

The asshole glares a little. "What _kind_ of a deal?"

"We'll talk after school." And, just to piss him off a little bit more, he winks.

**XxX**

Stiles meets Jackson in the locker room while everyone is getting ready for practice, wiggling his eyebrows until the most recent werewolf finally gives up and actually looks over at him.

"What's your _deal_, Stiles?" he asks snippily.

"A transaction," Stiles says, using Boyd's own vocabulary for his own. "If I do one thing for you, you'll do something for me—and Erica, because I'm helping her with something."

He raises an eyebrow. "Go on."

"You're in love with Lydia, right? And you hate it whenever I even _look_ at her. So how about, in exchange for what I need you to do, I promise not to look or even talk to her for the rest of the week—including the rave on Friday. I mean, I'll have to talk to her if she talks to me first or if people start dying, but I'll look down the entire time and stare at her shoes instead of her face o wherever else my male teenage eyes decide to wander."

Jackson gives him a narrow eyed look. "The _entire_ week?"

Stiles nods.

"What do _I_ have to do?"

Stiles huffs. "So Erica has a crush on Derek, and she's recruited me to try and help them get together…"

He nods. "Yeah, she was kind of talking about that last night… She wouldn't give any names, though. She's trying to get someone for you too, right?"

Stiles averts his eyes. "Yeah."

"Good, because I'm thinking about bumping your one week up to _two_ so I don't have to strangle you."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Fair enough. Now, our plan is for you to get really pissed off at me—I mean, pissed off enough that you shift instead of just make fun of me—but you're not _actually_ going to hurt me because I'm not _actually_ going to piss you off anymore than usual. Then Erica will come swooping in and beat you up, but not really hurt you because it's just a show and we both know you're probably stronger than she is anyway. Derek has to be around when this happens, too, because he's supposed to see her be all cool and strong and stuff."

Jackson's narrowed eyed look turns a little confused. "Why would _that_ make him like her?"

"It's just phase one, remember? He's not going to like her if he doesn't respect here, and right now I'm pretty sure that he doesn't respect any of you guys. So, if he sees her as stronger, he'll respect her more, and viola! Love."

Jackson gives an aggravated sigh, but he's obviously mulling over it in his head. "_Fine_," he says at length, "but only because I actually get along with Erica sometimes, and only if you promise to keep your one week at two, staring _tomorrow_."

Stiles grins and nods. "Yeah man, totally. I'll text you where and when as soon as Erica and I figure it out, yeah?"

He rolls his eyes, turning away. "Yeah, whatever."

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK  
2 Days Later (Tuesday, May 28)…_

Derek exhales as Stiles pulls up in his Jeep, fingers tapping nervously on his steering wheel loud enough that Derek can hear it from where he's standing at the entrance to the warehouse with two of his pack members (Erica and Jackson) while the other two have yet to arrive. Isaac is usually always with him, but this time he went and got Boyd, so not right now.

He knows about the plan. He wouldn't have, but Erica told him. She told him a lot of things...

_**[FLASHBACK TO SUNDAY NIGHT...]  
**_  
"Wanna know a secret?"

Derek looks up from where he's looking at the map again at Erica, with Jackson and Boyd already having left and Isaac back up at the ceiling. Whatever's gotten into him about acrobatics is going to get on Derek's nerves very soon.

"Not really," he says, looking back down.

She leans down, placing both hands in the middle of the map. "I'm gonna tell you anyways."

Derek rolls his eyes, looking up at her. "What is it?"

"I know you were listening when I told Stiles that I wanted his help to get together with Boyd," she says, "but I told him later that it wasn't really Boyd that I wanted."

He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. "Why did you lie to him?"

She grins. "Do you want to know who I told him I liked in place of Boyd?"

Derek sighs. "Who did you tell him, Erica?"

"You."

He narrows his eyes a little more than usual. "Why?"

She grins. "You really want to know?"

"Not really, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyway."

She nods. "That's exactly what I'm going to do. I don't know if the others can, or if it's just me because I'm female, but I can smell something…different on you whenever he's around. It's like this heady scent that makes me want to pass out because it's just _that_ good."

Derek honestly has no idea what she's talking about. "What's your point?"

"Do you know what I'm talking about or not?"

He tightens his jaw. "No."

Her eyes widen a little. "Then you…you really don't know it yet." She frowns, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Maybe it's because he's human. You don't feel it unless they're the same as us." She frowns deeper. "Why can _I_ smell it then? Is it really just because I'm a female? Maybe it—"

"Hang on," Derek says, uncrossing his arms to hold them up. "Are you talking about Stiles?"

She nods, but her heart is still racing. She's thinking about something. She's…

Derek's eyes widen. _A heady scent that makes me want to pass out because it's just THAT good._ "Are you talking about the scent that _mates_ put off?" he asks.

She gives a somewhat guilty look and nods. "That's why I told him that you're the one I want. He'll be forced to spend more time with you so he can understand you and help me out."

Derek gives her a scrutinizing look. "You're trying to get _Stiles_ and I together?" he asks.

At that, Isaac drops down from the ceiling. "Wait, what?"

The two werewolves ignore him, too busy staring at each other. "Yes," Erica says. "I am. I thought you knew what I was talking about with the scent, but you don't so…" She sighs, shoving her hair away again. "This is not going how I wanted it to."

Derek is actually having some trouble forming coherent words. "You want to get _Stiles_ and I together?" he repeats. "Why do you even think it's him? Just because you can smell…whatever it is you're smelling doesn't mean that it's him. I'm always around tons of other people when I'm around him."

She shakes her head. "Yes, but you've also been around all of those people when he's _not_ around, and at that point I can't sense anything about it. I know it's Stiles, Derek. You guys have got to be, like, mates or something!"

Derek rolls his eyes. "Werewolves don't _have_ mates, Erica."

"Who told you that?" a new voice asks, and the three werewolves look up at the stairs to see Peter walking down. "Because whoever did is wrong."

"I told myself that," Derek says. "I've never met any werewolf who's ever had a mate."

"We're just like wolves, kid," he says, sitting down on the bottom step. "Wolves mate for life, and if a werewolf _does_ find his mate, it's the same way. Problem is that most of them don't, which is probably why you don't believe in it."

Derek's eyes narrow. "Are you saying that you agree with her?"

He chuckles. "Possibly, but only because I know the exact scent that she's talking about. My own mother told me about it, and she also said that only females can sense it when it's not complete."

Isaac frowns. "I don't get it."

Peter rolls his eyes, standing up again to move and sit on the stairs of the subway. "If Erica is right, and his mate is Stiles, he's never going to have the urge to act on it because Stiles is in fact human. That's why it's not complete, because humans don't feel the urge to mate as other animals do. If, though, Stiles ever becomes a werewolf for whatever reason…" He gives Derek a pointed look. "It's going to be hard to resist."

Derek honestly can't help but wrinkle his nose up a little. "Stiles?" he asks. "There's no way that it's Stiles. He's literally the most annoying person I've ever met."

"Maybe that's why," Isaac says with a shrug. "Whoever's up there chose him for you so he could ground you a bit."

Derek rolls his eyes, looking back down at the map. "Stiles isn't my mate. End of discussion."

"The plan's still in action," Erica says. "Stiles is still trying to help us get together."

Peter gives a confused sound. "I missed this part."

"It doesn't matter," Derek says, refusing to look up. "It's not going to happen. Neither of us have the urge to act on it, and he's not going to change from being a human anytime soon."

Erica rolls her eyes, moving towards the stairs. "You could at least _try_ to have some fun every now and again, you know," she mutters. "It's one of the reasons that Boyd and I were going to leave."

Derek shifts his eyes up to her as her boots disappear. "Goodnight, Erica."

_**[...END FLASHBACK]  
**_  
So, now what does he do? Ignore it. He's good at ignoring things, especially when those things are annoying teenage boys that come up with horrible plans to get horrible people to fall in love

He rolls his eyes as the fake fight between Erica and Jackson ensues, Stiles scrambling over to hide behind Derek while he pretends to be afraid.

"You drew a penis on the back of Jackson's Porsche in black marker?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder as the kid grips onto the back of his t-shirt. "That was your brilliant plan to piss him off?"

"Nope," he says, hand shooting up to hold up said pen. "I drew it with a _Sharpie_."

He grabs the pen and chucks it onto the roof. "You're pathetic."

"I'm a sixteen year old teenage male. What did you expect?"

"I expect you to let go of me before I throttle you."

Stiles does, moving to stand beside him instead. "Jackson looks like an idiot," he says, watching the fight. "Erica is kicking his _ass_."

He tightens the way his arms are crossed. "I know about the plan, Stiles."

The kid swallows tightly, and his heartbeat speeds up. "What plan? The one to piss of Jackson? Because I did pretty good if I do say so mys_—"_

"Erica told me everything."

The kid frowns up at him. Not by much, either. Stiles is a lot closer to Derek's height than he looks from far away "What? Why would _she_ have told you?"

Derek contemplates telling him the actual reason for a split second before looking away. "It's not important, but I know that the plan isn't going to work."

Stiles sighs, looking away as well. "But I worked so hard on this."

"You better go stop it, then, because pretty soon Jackson is going to actually start hurting her. He can't control it as well."

Stiles groans as he runs over to stop them, and Derek watches with a slightly raised eyebrow at the way he literally runs right into the middle of them. A brave move, but supremely idiotic.

"Our deal's still on," Jackson spits as he and Erica slowly shift back.

Stiles huffs, looking down at the floor. "Fine."

Derek almost asks what _their_ deal is about, but he doesn't. He's already got enough troubles with Erica trying to hook him up with one of his least favorite people, let alone whatever he and Jackson can get up with.

"Come on, you three," he calls, moving to walk down into the subway. "The others will be here soon."

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES…_

Stiles instantly shoos Jackson after Derek as he disappears down the stairs, and then he turns to glare at Erica. "What do you _mean_ you told Derek about the plan?!" he asks angrily.

Her eyes widen before she groans. "He _told_ you that I told him?"

"Yeah, but he didn't tell me _why_ you did. So, why did you?"

She sighs, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "It's complicated, okay? But I really believe that the best way to get with him is if he knows that that's what I'm trying to do."

"Then why did you still go with the plan with Jackson?"

"You weren't supposed to know that he knew! You come up with better plans when people are oblivious, so I wanted to keep it that way."

Stiles has no idea where she got that knowledge, but he doesn't care. He's just…a little mad. "Whatever," he mutters, moving towards the stairs. "Let's just get this damn meeting over with."

When everyone else finally shows up, Stiles has still ended up sitting on the stairs with Erica behind him, her fingers working magic against his muscles.

"One more after this I'll forgive you," he says.

She gives a good natured eye roll. "Deal."

"So," Derek says, moving to lean against the stairs like he did last time. Everyone else is in the same spot as well. "I heard that Scott and Isaac found some things, but did anyone else?"

"I did," Jackson says, looking tense.

Derek raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Before I came over, Lydia and I were in her pool. I thought it was just a pile of leaves that had somehow sunk down to the bottom of the water, but it turned out to be a mash of snakes, frogs, lizards…" He shrugs. "All sorts of reptiles."

"And amphibians," Lydia says. "Reptiles and amphibians, all only the aquatic type."

Jackson rolls his eyes. "Whatever. They were all fused together with their own guts and intestines, though. We used the pool stick that usually picks up leaves to finally get it out, and it wasn't easy considering how heavy the pile was with such a flimsy thing."

Allison shudders a little. "That sounds disgusting."

"It was," Lydia says with a traumatized look.

Stiles is about to say something, but he remembers the deal he made with Jackson, so he keeps his mouth shut to her and instead addresses Derek: "What did Scott and Isaac find?"

"I found more cats," Scott says. "And also…less cats. All of the cats at my work went missing, but I found most of them by collars and the like."

Stiles swallows tightly. "And where, exactly, did you find them?"

"Some of them were in the woods, but there were three around you that I picked up before you saw…" He gives a guilty look. "I didn't want you to panic anymore."

Stiles groans, dropping his face to his legs. "Where did you find them?" he asks.

"There was another one on your door handle by its collar, one was lying in front of your front door, and the third was…"

Stiles looks up when his friend falls silent. "Where was it, Scott?"

He sighs. "You sleep with your window open, so it was lying across the windowsill." He quick smiles. "Don't worry, I disinfected everything!"

Stiles gags a little. "Oh my god, why do I get the cats?"

"I _saw_ the cats," Jackson says, "and this pile of scaly, slimy things was _way_ worse."

"Don't forget what Isaac found," Peter says, patting the kids shoulder since he's sitting beside him.

Isaac wrinkles his nose up. "It's not exactly a good thing."

"Go ahead and tell them, Isaac," Derek prompts.

He sighs. "I found it this morning, when I was up early to beat the rush at the grocery store. I was in Derek's car, but as I was driving passed the woods I had to pull over because I saw…turtles. There were a bunch of them, all dead on the side of the road. Some didn't have their shells and were torn apart that way, other shells were crushed with the turtles still inside…" He shrugs. "There weren't very many there, but I followed some scattered ones into the forest to the lake in the middle." He looks over at Jackson. "You know, the one that Derek threw you into after he bit you."

Jackson raises an eyebrow. "You know about that?"

"I know everything since I'm around him the most," he says. "Anyway, when I got to the lake… There were all _sorts_ of things. The cats, mashed piles of swimming reptiles and amphibians, more turtles, and even all sorts of fish. I figured out that the turtles are aquatic, but I didn't even know we had any around here, and there were especially too much fish to just be from that lake."

Derek nods, moving to grab a colorful map up from a table. "We've been keeping track. The red is for cats, green for turtles, blue for the reptiles and amphibians, and yellow for the fish. As you can see, anywhere that there's a body of wild water"—(Stiles almost laughs at "wild water", but he knows that Derek just means lakes and ponds and things instead of pools)—"is where the most animals have turned up, and any large amount of trees is a close second. Other than that, they've been pretty scattered except for Stiles' house."

Stiles groans again, and this time Erica scratches lightly at his back. Alright, fine, he forgives her for not telling him everything.

"What happens now, though?" Lydia asks. "Do we just keep a werewolf around Stiles, or should I always be protected too?"

"I'll do it," Jackson says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Your mom loves it when I stay over, and my parents love you too."

She smiles. "Sounds good."

Stiles ducks his head, and Erica whispers consoling phrases that Stiles instantly tunes out.

"I don't think I need anyone," Allison says. "I haven't found any dead animals around my house, car, or anywhere else." She grins. "Besides, I can use a bow and my dad likes shooting guns."

Scott pouts a little. "Are you sure you—"

"You do remember that we are still technically broken up, right?"

"_Anyway_," Derek says, bringing the attention back to him. "Isaac, you stay over at Stiles' place tonight. Everyone else…" He sets the map back down. "Call me if you find anything else."

"I don't have your number," Lydia says with a huff.

He gives her a condescending raise of his eyebrow. "I meant the werewolves, unless _you_ know how to howl."

Peter chuckles. "He doesn't have a cell phone, sweetheart."

She gives a sort of shrug that suggests she knew that all along when she clearly didn't. "Oh."

"Did anyone tell Peter about the rave?" Erica asks.

"I did," Boyd says, speaking for the first time this meeting. "He's coming with us."

Derek rolls his eyes over to his uncle. "You're kidding."

"What?" he says with a shrug. "Just because _you_ don't like having any fun doesn't mean _I_ don't want to unleash my inner animal every now and again."

Lydia cringes. "Let's _not_ think about dancing middle-aged men, yeah?"

"Everybody out," Derek mutters. "We're done here."

Stiles starts to stand, but Erica grabs the back of his shirt. "I really will find somebody for you, Stiles," she whispers. "I didn't lie about that."

"It's fine, Erica," he says, giving her a small but warm smile. "I forgive you."

She smiles. "Thanks."

* * *

End chapter notes: Alright, 3rd chapter over! The Erica actually trying to get Derek and Stiles together was my plot twist, by the way. Mate pheromones woohoo. And, like I said, there are a few things that I'll be making up, and one of those things is how all of the cats and water-associated animals are being mutilated and whatnot. That's just to up the creepy factor. The creature will be revealed within the next two chapters!  
Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	4. Raving

**4: Raving**

_STILES  
Three Days Later (Friday, May 31)…_

Stiles loves huge parties—or, more appropriately, big warehouses filled with attractive people. No matter where he dances, he's dancing with somebody else. Sometimes he's dancing with another guy, but that's not really a huge deal to him. It's always been an underlying feeling of his that he _could_ like guys, though it was shot down a bit when his dad couldn't even picture it. Oh well, not his problem. Peter bought him a couple of beers anyway, so even though he can't get anywhere near Lydia, he's having tons of fun. That was a while ago, though, so the tiny little buzz he got (he's used to drinking scotch or something with Scott, after all) is pretty much gone by now.

Everyone's here tonight, just like Erica wanted. Scott with Allison even though they're "not actually dating", Jackson and Lydia, Erica with both Isaac and Boyd, and… Stiles frowns, pausing in his rave with some tall blonde guy to look around. Where'd Peter go?

He spots him at the bar (the rave is at a different place, so there actually is one) with his back turned to the floor, and he's elbowing some guy in a black t-shirt for some reas—Stiles' eyes widen. Is that Derek? Alright, so Peter probably just told a hilarious joke that _only_ Derek wouldn't find funny. Does he _always_ have a stick up his ass or something?

Stiles moves to dance across the floor to the bar, getting stuck between some brunette twins in matching green dresses for a few seconds on the way. He knows that he'd never actually get a dance in the real world, where there's proper lighting. Erica has yet to reveal the girl she's invited for him to meet, telling him that it's going to be a surprise.

"Heyuh, party poopers!" he says brightly, stopping between their stools. "I didn't know you were coming, Derek!"

Peter grins, but the sourwolf doesn't even raise an eyebrow. "Still feelin' those beers?"

"Not really," he pouts, draping an arm over Peter's shoulders. He'd do it to Derek as well, but the guy would probably hit him. Peter would too, if he wasn't in a good mood, but probably not quite as hard. He's not the alpha anymore, after all.

"I could smell your buzz from here," Derek mutters.

"Emphasis on _could_, but now it's gone. And I only had a buzz 'cause I don't usually drink, by the way. I'm not a lightweight. I hold scotch really well."

Peter chuckles. "How about another beer, kid? You were more fun to watch when you didn't smell like a teenager."

Before Stiles can answer, Derek does for him: "No. I'm here to protect the pack in case something goes wrong, not get them drunk enough to go home with a stranger."

"Oh, you big sourwolf," Stiles says, fisting his hand so he doesn't reach up and muss up the guy's hair. Like he said, the beer wore off a while ago. He's not dumb enough to get his hand bitten off. "I wouldn't do that; no one would want to take me home anyway." Something like anger flashes in Derek's eyes, probably because Stiles is joking about what he's trying to make sure doesn't happen. That's what he's going to do on a night out for fun, though. Joke. "Just _one_ beer?" he asks. "Please?"

Derek gives his usual stone cold look. "You're sixteen, Stiles. You have five years to go before it's even legal."

"Didn't stop me from getting' drunk with Scott back before Peter died."

Derek rolls his eyes and knocks back some of his own drink, whatever it is. Stiles remembers how Peter was telling him and Scott that his nephew doesn't allow himself to get drunk anymore, so that's probably the only one he's had. "_One_."

Peter grins, pushing Stiles' arm off of him before whistling to the bartender.

Stiles likes his friends, really. All of them. Jackson doesn't count. Sure, he's jealous all the time, but at least he _has_ friends. It used to just be Scott, but ever since he got better at lacrosse (Stiles did too, thank you, but it just took longer) he's been around a lot more people. Sure, those people used to try to harm or kill him on a daily basis, but now they're alright. Maybe if he could just figure out something he's got that nobody else does… Not of this werewolf/immunity/weaponry stuff. He's really great at researching stuff—which is good, or Scott never would have made it through his first full moon. Other than that… Well, he currently has a beer, and he supposes that will get him through the night.

"Well," Peter says at length, stretching his arms up as Stiles finishes his bottle. It doesn't even give him anymore of a buzz, but at least it tried. "I think I'm going to head out, now. I haven't seen anyone both my age _and_ type yet. Do you think Melissa is still up?"

Derek rolls his eyes and stands. "I think we should all go."

"No way," Stiles says, taking a few steps back. "This place is the most fun I've had in weeks! Everyone is always fighting for their life, dying anyway, and then coming back to life. I don't wanna wake up in the morning to this new threat being even worse and know I could have stayed here another hour and actually had a little fun."

Derek opens his mouth to protest, but Peter beats him to it: "He's right, Derek. Just let them relax!" He pats his nephew on the back, earning a bit of a growl. "Geez, Stiles is right. You are a sourwolf." And he's off with a grin, disappearing into the crowd towards the door out of here.

"You know," Stiles says as Derek sits back down, "your uncle's pretty cool when he's not trying to kill us."

Derek gives his usual glare. "And you're pretty cool when you're asleep."

Stiles has learned to stop taking things Derek says in an offensive manner, so he just smiles. "I've been reliably informed that I talk in my sleep, actually, so you probably wouldn't like me then, either."

Stiles swears that Derek's eyes actually crinkle in a could-be smile, but instead he takes another gulp of his drink. "Go dance some more, Stiles—and preferably somewhere I can't see you, because you're not very good at it."

Stiles grins, sitting down on the stool beside him. "You're just jealous that everyone is having fun while you're stuck watching over us." Stiles frowns before Derek can answer. "Wait, why _are_ you doing that? Does anyone else even know that you're here? I mean, I understand keeping protection over Erica, Isaac, Boyd, and Jackson, but you said all of us. What's making you keep an eye out for me, Scott, Allison, and Lydia as well?"

Derek takes Stiles' empty bottle from his hands and sets it in Peter's old spot. "Because all of you are tied together in your friendships. If one that's not mine dies, mine will grow sad, and then everything goes to hell because they'll start to give up. Also, Scott may not be in my pack, but I still need him pretty often, so it'd be pretty inconvenient if he decided to die."

Stiles frowns, leaning against the counter. "You actually care?"

He finishes his drink. "Just because I don't show my feelings doesn't mean I don't have them."

"Why don't you show them, then? Everyone would like you more if you did."

Derek gives him a dark look, but it's more than just directed at Stiles. It's deeper than that. "Aren't you going to go dance, Stiles?"

Stiles grins, hopping away from the counter. "Know what I'm gonna do? Make you show an emotion besides that pissed off look you always have."

He hums. "Good luck with that."

Stiles all but sprints to where Erica is with Isaac and Boyd. "Guess who Derek has a crush on!" he yells over the music.

They all stop dancing, eyes wide. "Derek is here?" Erica says excitedly.

"He actually _does_ like someone?" Isaac asks.

"He actually _told_ you?" Boyd asks with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles nods and starts to say whatever name first comes to his head (he'll have to tell Erica he was lying later), but suddenly Derek is just _there_, gripping at the back of his t-shirt and dragging him away.

"You thought lying about a crush _wouldn't_ piss me off?" He growls, standing Stiles upright somewhere else in the middle of the floor.

"It was just a start," Stiles says. "I had to get you on the floor _some_how."

Derek's eyebrows furrow. "_That_ was your plan to get me to come out and dance?"

Stiles grins, trying not to notice the claws pricking against his back through his shirt. "I bet Erica would dance with you."

Obviously Derek's three pack members were listening in, so they're there right away, pulling Stiles away from Derek's claws.

"I'll dance with you, Derek," Erica says sickly sweet, linking their arms together.

Derek glowers at her before turning it to Stiles, but Stiles just wants to grin since Derek knows all about the plans to get him and his only female pack member together. "Lock your windows tonight," he hisses as Erica walks them away.

Stiles really does grin then, grabbing Isaac and Boyd's hands. "I totally want to see this."

Boyd cuts in with another girl near where Derek and Erica stop on the floor, but Stiles and Isaac don't get that far. "Tell anyone that I'm dancing with you and I'll kill you," Isaac hisses into Stiles' ear.

Stiles laughs. "I've had three beers. Tell anyone who asks that I'm a lightweight."

"Aren't you?"

"I am not!"

"I'm pretty sure you are."

"You've never even seen me dru—oh."

Both Stiles and Isaac stop dancing completely, staring with dropped jaws at how Derek is actually getting into his dancing, his hands on Erica's hips and his eyes… Actually, his eyes are boring into Stiles', and he's pretty pissed off if the red irises have anything to say about it.

Stiles swallows tightly, positive that he's gonna die. "I gotta go," he says, turning around to face Isaac so he actually hears him. "Scott needs a ride home and I'm going to get ripped in half." He weasels away and starts looking for his best friend. He's probably in some corner, making out with Allis—

Like before, claws latch onto the back of his t-shirt, but this time he's also spun around and shoved against the nearest wall.

"I've seen you smile _twice_, Derek," Stiles snaps. "I know life sucks, but can't you _laugh_ once in a while?"

Derek cracks his neck. "Go home, Stiles."

Stiles looks down at the concrete floor. "I already told you, I don't want to."

"You're not going to make me show a new emotion, and especially not a smile. Not here."

"Then I'll make somebody _else_ smile." He shoves passed the giant werewolf, going back on the actual floor. He knows he was a little tipsy back before, but now it's all worn off and he's just mad and annoyed and…

"Fuck," he whispers to himself, dragging a hand down his face as he gets as far away from Derek as he can. Fine, so Derek's an asshole and doesn't smile unless he's doing something that involves being even more of an asshole. Two can play at that game—just not tonight. Tonight, Stiles will dance, and Derek can go suck a dick.

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

"_Now_ look what you did," Erica hisses, linking her arm in Derek's again. "He's got, like, twenty different emotions coming off of him."

Derek glares down at her. "This is your fault, actually."

"_My_ fault? You're the alpha, Derek, so shouldn't you be taking responsibility for your betas?"

Derek bares his fangs at her, but Boyd shows up and drags her to the side. "She told me what she's trying to do, Derek, and while I don't agree with her, you don't have to hurt her over it. Girls are weird."

Erica hugs him. "I'm going to murder you," she says sweetly.

Derek doesn't have time for this. "I'll be at the bar if somebody dies," he mutters, shoving passed them.

He senses Isaac out of the crowd as he moves to follow him, and he tries really hard not to punch his favorite beta in the face when he sits down beside him at the bar.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly.

Derek gives him a confused look. "What for?"

"For all of pitting ourselves against you so much lately. We're just…tired, you know? We're sick of people dying. We knew what we were getting into, and we don't regret it, but…" He shrugs. "It's exhausting. I know you know that, so I know that you understand where we're coming from, even though it is annoying. We're trying to have fun, and it's working, so…" He smiles. "Thanks for coming just so you could watch over us."

Derek sighs, spinning around on his stool to face the dance floor. "Do you think she's right?"

"About Stiles? Is that what's got you so tense tonight?"

"I'm always tense, but yes, that's part of it. That and everything else that's going on."

Isaac supplies a sad smile. "We'll never get a break, will we?"

He shakes his head. "Never."

"I don't think she's right, if it makes you feel any better."

Derek's eyes crinkle in the tiniest of smiles. "Not really, but thanks anyway."

"What if she is right, though…? Even he never changes, are you going to ignore it?"

He nods. "Yup."

Isaac laughs. "Good plan. I'd ignore it too if I had to mate with Stiles. I can smell the virgin on him anyway."

Derek raises an eyebrow at him. "I can smell it on _you_, Isaac."

He scoffs. "I've at least gotten a blowjob."

Derek gives a good natured shake of his head. "Go dance some more, kid. I'm not going to give you the sex talk."

"What about the mate talk?"

"You'll have to have that with Peter."

Isaac chuckles, standing up. "I forgive you, too, by the way."

Derek gives another confused look. "What for?"

He smiles, walking backwards to get away. "For breaking my arm." And he's gone, disappearing into the crowd.

Derek sighs, scanning for everybody else with his werewolf senses. Isaac just made his way over to Erica and Boyd to the left of him, Jackson and Lydia are indeed holed up in a corner, Scott and Allison are pretty much the same, and Stiles is dancing with a short redhead that looks so much like Lydia that Jackson would probably mistake her from the back and punch Stiles in the face.

It stands, though, that Stiles is not actually as terrible at dancing as Derek made him out to be. He sighs, turning back around on his stool. Even if Erica is right, and even if Stiles does ever get turned so that the pull of being his mate becomes stronger, he _can't_. Everyone around him always ends up getting hurt, either by his own hand or the hands of his enemies. A mate would slow him down, distract him, and everything in between. Maybe he should talk to Peter about it…

No, if he does, Peter will think that means he's given in, and he's not about to have his uncle start harassing him for a crush that he doesn't have. He's got nice eyes (all werewolves admire eyes), but that's it. He likes long hair and, well, women. It's going to suck enough if Erica is right about them, but it's going to suck even more if Stiles ends up turned.

He sighs, ordering another drink. It's going to be a long night.

**XxX**

Derek knew it was going to be a long night, but he didn't mean that he wanted it to be even longer. Since Jackson is with Lydia, Scott is with Allison, Erica is with Boyd, and Isaac met some human girl with a lot of tattoos, Derek is left as the only one who can watch over Scott. He leaves his car for Isaac and follows Stiles' Jeep on foot, not wanting to alert him to his presence. He doesn't really want to have anymore "meaningful talks" about how much of a dick he is to people. He really didn't wish on that shooting star, so he's not going to do it now.

The sheriff is already asleep, so Stiles goes straight up to his room and changes into pajamas. He stares at his closed window for a while, and finally he shrugs and opens it wide. Derek rolls his eyes at the boy's stupidity, but at least he thought about it at all. As soon as he's in bed and his breathing is steady, Derek jumps around until he dives silently through the window, followed by closing the damn thing. Stiles snores a little, but oh well.

Stiles' bedroom is, surprisingly, very tidy for a teenage boy. His desk is covered in papers, and there are also some scattered around the floor, and even an old looking book here and there. Derek moves to sift silently through them, not at all surprised to see that most of the papers are on werewolves and kanimas. Obviously he hasn't cleaned up since the whole thing. There are a couple other creatures mixed in as well, like vampires, ghosts, zombies, and mermaids. Derek personally doesn't believe in things he hasn't seen, but he wouldn't be surprised about running into any number of those things. He's been through enough to know that everything is possible. Except aliens. He still doesn't believe in those.

There are some books scattered around as well, and Derek wonders where Stiles even gets his money if he doesn't have a job. An allowance, maybe? Derek's never had one of those. Maybe he just asks his dad for the occasional fifty bucks for gas and uses what doesn't go in the tank for an old book. He had no idea that Stiles was the type of person to do something like that.

Derek sighs, picking up some of the more scattered books. There's a red hardcover about werewolves, a tiny little thing about kanimas, a _huge_ dictionary (which is unexpected, even with all this), and…

Derek frowns, setting down the other three. It's about the size of an everyday Bible, with bindings of a dark green leather and a single faded gold word written across the front: Bestiary.

He hums in thought. Where was Stiles even able to find this if the only ones that Peter and Gerard know about are the ones they have already? And when?—because it would have been really fucking helpful about a week and a half ago. He flips through a few pages, glancing over entries for things like alicanto, chimera, and harpies.

He lifts his head from the pages when he hears the sheriff clunk about a bit, and with the speed and silence of a werewolf he shoves the window open and ducks onto the roof, because that clunking is coming straight for Stiles' bedroom.

"Stiles?" his dad asks. "Stiles, are you—oh." He barely hears the rustle of a blanket being straightened over Stiles' body, and with a pat somewhere (probably his head) he disappear back out of the door. Stiles murmurs in his sleep as Derek gets back in, and suddenly, everything about Stiles changes. He bolts awake, heartbeat fast and breathing heavy.

"Derek," he whispers. "The window."

Derek frowns, stepping away from it. "Stiles, you were fast asleep. How did you know it was me?"

"Derek, the window!" he whispers frantically.

Derek doesn't understand how he just shot up and _knew_ that it was him without looking, but he doesn't waste anymore time, spinning around and slamming the window down—and cuts a cat, mangled as the others, all the way in half, leaving the face to lie dead and rotten on the inside sill. Derek didn't smell it coming because he was too busy listening to heartbeats and breathing rates.

Another one slams against the window, spurting blood in multiple directions. Stiles' heartbeat significantly lowers, and he gives Derek a confused look. "Are you sneaking into my room? It's not like old times anymore, Derek. Can't you knock?"

Derek frowns. "What do you mean? You just yelled at me to close the window."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "No I didn't. I just woke up from a dream where alligators were trying to break into my window and eat me."

Derek frowns deeper. "Was _I_ in this dream?"

"Why would I dream about you?"

"I don't know, but you just screamed my name twice."

He huffs. "No, I _didn't_. I mumble in my sleep, not scream."

Derek glares a little. "You were whispering loudly, but fine. Do you have any plastic bags in here?"

"Yeah, to the left of the desk. Why do you need a plastic bag? And you still haven't told me why you're here."

"I'm _here_ because nobody else is and you still need protection after a 'relaxing night'," he says, moving to get a bag. "And I need _this_ because of _that_." He moves towards the cat, and Stiles gags until he rolls off of the opposite side of the bed to the window, and then he probably only stops because he starts muttering about how he hit his head.

"Your alligator dream saved you from a bombardment of a couple dead cats. This one here?" He wraps the bag in such a way that he can get it into the bag without touching it. "It was still alive when I slammed the window down, cutting its body in half. There's something about you that this thing doesn't like, Stiles, because most things don't throw dead animals at you as a sign of affection."

Stiles literally bolts into a standing position. "Derek, oh my god."

The werewolf sighs, tying off the bad. He'll get the other one and a half in the morning. "What?"

"There is one animal I know of that leaves dead animals as a sign of affection."

Derek blinks a bit. "There is?"

"Cats, dumbass! Well, no, I guess you wouldn't know anything about them since you grew up with dogs."

"_Wolves_."

"Whatever. Cats kill rodents and leave them on the doorsteps of their owner's homes as a sort of gift. It's like they're catching prey for their young. Everyone knows that cats think they're better than everything, so they think that you're not smart enough to feed yourself." He grins. "I had a cat for a long time, but it ran away about a year after my mom died. It used to leave shrews in my backpack. I wouldn't find them for a couple of days. Gross, but also kind of funny. This, though?" He motions to the bag in Derek's hand. "Not funny."

Derek frowns. "Housecats _do_ that? That's disgusting."

"It is, but it's also cute when you know why."

"Why _do_ you know that, anyway?"

"I told you, one F doesn't make me an idiot. I like researching things. Not everything, but a thing that catches my interest now and again. I know more about werewolves than Scott does. I told you that. I've gotten an A on every research paper I've ever written, and yes, that includes the time I wrote about cats in third grade, which is where I learned all of this. It was the longest one in the class, too. She made a ten page limit for the next one after they were graded."

Derek is honestly impressed. Here he thought Stiles wasted his time away playing video games and trying not to get killed in the crossfire of werewolves, kanimas, and hunters. "You're weird. Why do you have a bestiary?"

Stiles frowns, stepping out of his blankets tangled up on the floor. "What do you mean? I don't. Did you find one? 'Cause that would be weirder than I am."

Derek shoves the cat in the closet and moves to pick the leather book up. "This."

Stiles eyes light up and he snatches it away. "This isn't mine, but I've been looking for one _everywhere_. It was just sitting on the desk?"

"Yeah, underneath the giant dictionary—which I'm also surprised you own, by the way."

Stiles darts his eyes up at him for a split second as he's flipping through thin pages. "How else would I know the word 'ephemeral' when Scott uses it?"

"What, you read it for fun?"

"Actually I play online games where I battle mythical creatures for fun—and _that's_ how I knew what a bestiary was while Scott and Allison thought I meant to say bestiality." He grins. "Hang on, hang on… As a werewolf, are you guys into stuff like tha—"

"_No_," Derek says sternly. "Just because we occasional lose ourselves enough that our claws and fangs come doesn't mean that… Ugh, no."

His grin widens. "Did you just say 'ugh'?"

Derek sighs, taking the book back. He _didn't_ want to have anymore meaningful conversations with Stiles, and yet here they are. "I told you that I _do_ have feelings, remember?"

"Then _show_ them!"

"I _am_ showing them!" he snarls—a quiet snarl, seeing that they're not the only ones in the house.

Stiles rolls his eyes, moving to pick his blankets up. "Alright, you are. Anger, sadness, and other related things. I talk to Peter more than you think. He's told Scott and me all about who you used to be. I even know why your eyes used to be blue."

Derek takes a step back, eyes wide and jaw set in a silent snarl. "I don't want to talk about it."

"It's _okay_ to be sad about her, Derek," the teen growls (as much as a human can, anyway), crawling back into his bed. "Taking it out on everyone else, though, is pushing it. Peter said that you used to even laugh at his jokes, and that you're one hell of a drunk. Also that you're proud of Isaac and what he's become." He tucks the blankets in around himself. "It's not my fault all of that shit happened, and it's not yours either, but it's never going to get better if you don't get over it. You were, like, fifteen, right? That was practically ten years ago."

Derek swallows tightly. "Your father still wears his wedding ring."

"I _know_," Stiles snaps, but Derek can practically _feel_ the tears welling into his chest. His heart is beating fast and loud and broken. "You say it like you think I haven't notice. Guess what? I tell him the exact same thing. You have to get over it to get passed it. I've gotten rid of everything that reminds me of her but one thing, and I keep that in the back of a drawer where I never see it. I could wear it if I wanted to, yeah, but I don't need to. I can understand my dad still wearing his because he knew her for so many years, but you didn't even know what's-her-name for a _year_. You were _fifteen_." He practically slams his head against his pillow, trying to hide the fact that he's about to cry. "Go sit out on my roof or something, asshole. You can protect me from flying cats where I can't fucking see you."

Derek sets down the bestiary. Back before he had a pack of his own, Derek would just leave. He wouldn't stay and watch him; he'd go to where he calls home and sleep by himself. Peter has an apartment, but no, Derek sleeps in a warehouse.

But he knows that's not right. Stiles and Isaac are a lot alike. They handle things differently, sure, but they're both the physical contact love language type. Derek's never thought about the human like he has his betas before, but he notices it now. The way his eyes practically beg Erica to work the kinks out of his body even when he doesn't have any, or when he tugs on Scott's shirts to get his attention, and how he's constantly balling his hands into fists around Lydia—also around Jackson, but those are for two totally different reasons. He taps people on the shoulder, too, when he thinks or knows they're not listening anymore. Sometimes people really do stop listening to him, but he shouldn't be offended by that when half of the shit that comes out of his mouth is completely useless. Some of it is great, but barely. It's true that he's good at figuring things out, though, and he certainly researches things in depth. He probably has labeled portfolios somewhere of the animals he's already gone through. The stuff on his floor is just what he hasn't picked up yet.

Derek sits down on the edge of Stiles' bed, on the side that's facing the window, and squeezes one of Stiles' hands through the blanket. "I'm sorry," he says softly.

"I don't forgive you," Stiles whispers sharply in turn.

Derek doesn't have to hear the rise of his heartbeat at the lie to know that it's a lie, because it and his breathing immediately drop down to slow, calm rates after it. Derek isn't usually very good at calmly people down, but maybe… If Erica is right, it could be a mate thing. They can't feel the pull because Stiles is human, but even Derek feels calmer after all of…that. They don't even have to be touching; just the pressure.

Derek sighs, staying there until Stiles falls back asleep. He really is going to have to talk to Peter about mates. Homicidal snake-lizards and werewolves coming back to life? For all he knows, with the shit that's going on with cats and aquatic animals, Stiles could become a werewolf within the week.

* * *

End chapter notes: Wow I suck at writing in Derek's POV sorry guys. Anyway! End of the 4th chapter, yessiree. Hopefully I'm not shoving the whole Sterek thing in too hard. I want it to be gradual, but I also want them to have sex, you know? Internal conflicts and all :P But hey so yeah obviously the creature was revealed in this chapter, because I've decided to do it in the next one instead! And then, if you want to go read about it on Wikipedia or something, you'll know all of the parts I've made up before I even tell you about them in the notes! Haha.  
Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	5. The Recording

**5: The Recording**

_DEREK  
Saturday, June 1…_

Derek wakes up before Stiles the next morning, so he uses the teen's phone to text Isaac that it's him and to just let him know when he wakes up. It's about nine-thirty in the morning, which is late for Derek, but that's alright. If he had missed anything he would have been woken up by a howl or Stiles would have a text.

Derek ended up falling asleep at the end of Stiles' bed, on his back with his legs hanging over the edge. He doesn't move in his sleep. He never has. Stiles, on the other hand, kicked the blankets completely off of his body before turning all the way around and using Derek's stomach as a pillow. He was surprised he _didn't_ get woken up during that, but he won't spend his time thinking about it.

Instead he's gone through the house (since the sheriff is gone) to use the bathroom and make a couple of tuna fish sandwiches for the days activities. Derek is now sitting on the floor at the foot of Stiles' bed, first sandwich gone, and pouring through the bestiary. At the same time that he's looking for sacrificing cats as gifts and mashed reptiles and crushed turtle shells, he's also going over it for future things. Who knows what they'll run into after this, or maybe even at the same time? It's always good to be prepared, and Derek tries to keep it that way.

It's about ten-fifteen when Stiles gets a text, and Derek instantly opens it to see what that it's Isaac: **Awake now. Went home alone. Still a virgin. Whoopee. Whats up?**

Derek reads the text twice over, surprised at how positively _Stiles_ it sounds. Erica sees Isaac as a brother, so no wonder she's taken to Stiles after they've all decided not to try kill each other for a while.

Derek types back, quick with his werewolf fingers even though he'd be terrible at it otherwise: **Just wondering if you could take over for me here at Stiles' place. I need to talk to Peter.**

**Ya I could use a shower anyway. Drive or run?**

**Drive. I want my car.**

**Be there soon.**

Derek takes this opportunity to check out the property with his plastic bag of half a cat to pick up anymore that found their way around, and he's happy to say that he only ends up with one other besides the one and a half by the window, and that includes checking inside rooms with other open windows.

"Hey," Isaac says after parking a couple houses away. Smart. Derek Hale's car shouldn't be outside of the sheriff's house even if he is no longer a criminal. "Find some more?"

"Three," he says, holding the bag up. "Stiles thinks they're gifts."

"You mean like how cats leave rodents?"

Derek rolls his eyes, lowering his arm. "Everybody really does know about that. Yes, like that."

"So the thing, whatever it is, actually _likes_ Stiles?"

Derek nods. "Hard to believe, but that's what we started leaning to last night. If we're wrong, though, whatever it is is probably just making fun of him for being the boy who runs with wolves. Do me a favor and clean the blood off of his window before he wakes up."

Isaac nods, jumping up to get into the bedroom, and Derek swings into the car and drives off to where he knows Peter's apartment is. It's a nice little downtown place for one person, but Derek prefers not being somewhere with ties to—like paying for it.

"Heyuh, kiddo," Peter says when he opens the door to him. "What happened last night?"

Derek shrugs, moving to go onto the balcony since he's on the fourth floor. "I ended up going to Stiles' since everyone else crashed with somebody else, and then I found _this_." He holds up the bestiary.

His uncle actually gasps, snatching it away. "Derek, do you know what this _is_?"

Derek raises an eyebrow, leaning against the railing. "What do you mean?"

"This is _the_ bestiary—the first one ever made!"

"Then how is it in print?"

He snorts. "That's not print, Derek." He moves to lean beside him, opening to a random page. "That's ink. Whoever made this had to spend ages on a single letter to make it look like the time Times New Roman font."

Derek's eyes widen, bringing it closer to his eyes. It really is ink. "Amazing as that is," he says, handing it back, "I can't help but think it was a waste of time."

"Not to whoever wrote it, no. Have you heard of Arthur Spiderwick?"

Derek raises a single eyebrow. "The author?"

"Yes, the _fake_ author. He made up stories to cover up the things that he _actually_ found. Some of the creatures in that series really do exist, but others he only created to throw people like us off his scent. Not his literal scent, of course, but you know what I mean."

"How do you know it was him?"

"Because his signature is scrawled teeny-tiny on the inside of the bottom corner of the back cover, dumbass. Have you actually opened this thing?"

"I was reading through from the front. I haven't gotten there yet."

He grins. "Gotten to banshee yet?"

"Yeah, ages ago. Why?"

His grin widens. "Why do you think I chose Lydia to bring me back to life?"

Derek's eyes widen. "Lydia is a—"

"Yup. Don't tell her, though. I'm trying to find a nice way to let her know that she starts to wail like an opera singer when someone is about to die because she's an omen of death. Fun stuff, that girl."

"Can't we just tell her that way? She already hangs out with all of us."

"Hmm, no." He starts to flip through the book, eyes darting around to random lines. "I wonder if Allison is anything… No matter. Is this all you came over for? Because your heart is beating like you're about to get hit by a train."

Derek huffs, moving to go back inside. "Do you think Erica is right?"

Peter snorts. "How should I know? I'm a guy. We can only smell it when it's our own or our mate's."

"If you believe that then you must believe her."

Peter purses his lips and closes the bestiary before moving inside as well, sitting down on the bed. It's mostly the only piece of furniture in the entire apartment besides a desk, a chair for it, and a nightstand that was left behind from the last tenant.

"You're wondering about werewolf mating, aren't you?"

Derek sighs, sitting down beside his uncle. "Stiles is always putting himself in danger. He's bound to need to turn one day, and probably sooner than later. If that comes along and she's right, then… Then what?"

Peter chuckles. "Then you're going to feel a pull towards him that's so strong that your wolf will physically pain you until you let yourself be with him. Not sexually, but just _near_ him. And even then, he's not technically considered your mate until you actually do get to the sexual part of it. So, if you really want to fight it…" He shrugs. "Don't bang the kid."

Derek cringes. "Don't say that."

"What, is that old fashioned slang? I thought that was newer."

"It is, but not coming from you. It wouldn't even be okay coming from me. Just…say sex."

"Fine, fine. Don't have sex with him and he won't technically be yours. The pull will still be there, though, and I really doubt you're going to be able to hold back anyway. Werewolf mates are a little different than regular wolves, obviously. While most people believe that wolves mate for life, a male alpha can mate with different females a year if he wants to—it doesn't _have_ to be the female alpha. Werewolves, though, really are, and if you meet your mate to just have them die, then you're never going to mate again. The occasional sex, probably, but you'll never fall in love."

Derek gives a tiny groan and drops backwards, lying on his back. "What else?"

He starts to flip through the bestiary again. "Is there anything specific you want to know?"

"He can't get pregnant, can he? Because I know that wolves only mate during the breeding season, but humans are completely different."

Peter snorts. "Um, no, he can't get pregnant. In all my years I've never met an animal wherein the male can get pregnant."

"What about seahorses?"

"To be honest I'm pretty sure the female gets pregnant and then transfers them over, but don't quote me."

"Fine, I just don't want a kid, okay?"

"I don't want you to have one either, but…" He grins back at him. "You can't deny that Stiles would be the cutest father."

Derek shakes his head. "Maybe, but that doesn't mean we're going to adopt. Where does that even happen? Some werewolf agency? I doubt it."

"You'd be surprised. Anything else?"

"If he doesn't become a wolf, I'll never smell the scent and I'll never feel the pull?"

"Right. That's why most of us never find our mates. They're not even one of us. You can only feel it through another werewolf."

Derek sighs, sitting back up. "I don't know what else to ask about."

Peter gives an exasperated look. "You really want the low down?"

"If she's right, then yes."

"You actually trust my judgment? I killed people you love, yelled at you to kill me, and then used your lifeblood to bring myself back to life. I'm not a very judgmental person to begin with."

Derek rolls his eyes. "Obviously you know more about it than I do, so yes."

"What if I just made all of that up?"

"Peter!"

"Alright, alright, I didn't. Geez, we should _all_ start calling you a sourwolf." He closes the bestiary again. "Yes, I believe that she's right—and I also feel terrible for you if he does have to become a werewolf because…" He shakes his head. "It's Stiles, and Stiles is Stiles." (Derek finds it entertaining that that sentence actually made sense to him.) "Whether he does or not, though, is not something I have an opinion on. It'd be nice because he'd be able to protect himself, but he'd also be the Moon Moon of the pack."

Derek narrows his eyes in confusion. "The…Moon Moon?"

"Yeah, Moon Moon. Don't you ever go on the internet?"

"Not really. I have an email, but that's only because I don't have a cell phone for companies to get a hold of me. You know, car repairs and the like."

"Wait…does that mean you don't have a Facebook?"

Both of Derek's eyebrows rise. "_You_ have a Facebook?"

Peter rolls his eyes. "Never mind. You want to know about werewolf mating, so I'm going to tell you."

Derek takes the bestiary back so he doesn't distract himself. "You sound like the beginning to a badly written essay. Hurry up."

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES…_

When Stiles wakes up, Isaac is standing in a towel and going through his clothes, no doubt for something clean to wear so he doesn't have to go and get his own clothes. His old place is still being emptied out, and since Mr. Lahey didn't write a will, Isaac gets all of it—which means he's been selling all of it at some garage sales and places online.

He also notices that Derek is gone, so the guy probably called Isaac with Stiles' phone to get him to come babysit while he did something useful with the bestiary, because he _also_ notices that that's gone with him. Derek has pissed him off before, but last night was a bit over the top. Then he… He sat down beside him and squeezes his hand. Does he do that to his betas when _they're_ sad/angry? He's never seen it, and he doubts it anyway. But the overwhelming sense of calm that washed through Stiles' entire body was almost embarrassing. He's not blaming himself for feeling safe around Derek, all teeth and claws and red glowing eyes, he's just annoyed that it was in that context. During a fight, maybe, like when he roared at Isaac so he _wouldn't_ attack Stiles, but after a _verbal_ fight? That's just downright boring.

"Morning," Isaac says, boxers, sweats, and a t-shirt in hand. They're not exactly built the same, but that's what the sweats are for. "Know what Derek had to talk to Peter about?"

Stiles didn't know that Derek had to talk to Peter at all. "Probably the bestiary we found last night." He shoves the covers off, looking for his phone.

Isaac frowns deeply. "It's on your chair," he says, pointing to the one at the desk, somehow knowing exactly what he wants. Werewolf an' all. "And…you found a bestiality?"

Stiles groans. "Not you, too! Bestiary, Isaac. Beast-ee-airy. There's not ee-al-it-ee in there. It's a book of mythical creatures."

"Oh, I know what that is. Derek and Peter have a sort of one on Peter's old laptop. It's not as full of information as the Argent's have, though, so they've been looking for a better one."

Stiles nods and grabs up his phone, scrolling through his calls (nothing) and text messages, where he finds the conversation between Derek and Isaac. He frowns up at Isaac, already in boxers and now putting on the sweats. "You're a virgin?"

Isaac glances back with a glare-ish sort of look. "And _you're_ not?"

Stiles ducks his head. "Sorry, I just… I didn't think you were. You're kinda hot, so…" He shrugs.

"You think I had time for a girlfriend with a dad like mine?"

Stiles frowns. "Good point. Maybe he—"

"Wait a minute," Isaac says, pulling the shirt over his head. "Did you just call me hot?"

Stiles rolls his eyes, erasing the massages. "I didn't mean that _I_ think you're hot, I mean you're the type of hot that most girls would go for. You're not usually a douche, either, so—stop looking at me like that! I'm not gay. Scott and I even went to a gay club to protect Danny from kanima Jackson and I couldn't use that as an excuse because my dad said I couldn't be and still dressed like however I was."

Isaac chuckles. "I know you're not gay, Stiles, but I _have_ noticed that you have an unhealthy obsession with the idea."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He gives a good natured eye roll. "Nothing, just an observation. Wanna do anything today? I'm not too keen on sitting around in your house trying to figure out why something likes you enough to throw dead cats at your windows."

"Like what? See a movie? Go bowling? Write a symphony?"

"I could use a shopping trip, to be honest."

Stiles blinks at him for a minute. "You want _me_ to take you shopping?"

"Well I can't go with anyone else. Jackson would kill me for asking Lydia and Allison's dad would kill me for asking her."

Stiles sighs. "Fine, just let me get dressed."

**XxX**

"What the hell is _this_?"

Isaac glances over to where Stiles is standing in the sports store. "That's a jock strap."

"Blech!" Stiles tosses it away.

Isaac chuckles, a few things in hand. "Come on, I'm ready."

After Isaac sold so much crap and with Derek helping him get his fathers affairs all in order, Isaac has the most money of a teenager that Stiles knows—not including Jackson, since it's technically his parents' money anyway. What with everything of his father's going to him and him not wanting even three quarters of it and selling it. Now he just needs clothes because his dad hasn't taken him in a few years and he had to buy a few things here and there with the money he earned on the graveyard shift.

"Where next?" Stiles asks. They've already hit a couple of stores, so they're each holding a bag.

"That one," Isaac says, pointing. "It has the best jeans."

To be honest, Stiles kinda feels like this would be what it's like to shop with a girlfriend. Lydia wasn't really shopping, just trying on a bunch of dresses while Stiles had to wait for her outside of the dressing rooms. This is a little more fun, but that may also be because he's actually friends with Isaac instead of Lydia being forced to tolerate him thanks to Allison.

He frowns, sitting down by a dressing room with all of the bags while Isaac grabs up some jeans to try them on before accidentally getting some that don't fit. Maybe he _likes_ girls, but he's never actually thought about what it would be like to date one—making out, sure, but not everything that comes with it. Mood swings, periods, the need to be right about everything, and _endless shopping_. Stiles doesn't like shopping unless it's for groceries, but Isaac is actually making this kind of fun.

"Wha'dyou think of Derek?" Isaac asks as he goes into the dressing room that Stiles was saving for him.

Stiles frowns. Shopping with Derek? Like, for leopard print heels? No, he never was able to picture that. He can't even remember seeing the guy eat, let alone buy a t-shirt.

"Stiles?"

Oh, Isaac didn't mean shopping. He can't read minds. "What do you mean?"

"Do you like him?"

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. Why is Isaac wondering that, of all things? "He's kind of a dick."

"But what do you _really_ think about him?"

"Dude, why does it matter?"

"Because he's the alpha."

"He's _your_ alpha."

"Go deeper than his being mean all the time, would you?"

Stiles sighs, slumping in a waiting chair. He's already done this with Derek himself, so why does he have to do it again? "He needs to let things go. Everyone who burned in the house is dead, Gerard puked black shit until his intestines came up with it, Peter died and now he's got a loyal scent to him, _and_ he's got a pack. What more does he need to try and move on? My mom died five years ago, and that's about the same time it's been since Derek's family, and I'm not over it in such a way that I don't care, but at least I can laugh every day!

"Getting over something doesn't mean you have to forget, though, you just have to be happy about what you still _have_. My dad, you know? He's my only family, but that's okay with me because I've accepted it. Not to mention all the friends I've got now, which is more than I've ever had." He sighs. "Maybe the guy got lonely, you know? Maybe that's why he brought you, Erica, and Boyd into his whole mess. Jackson came because Derek was hoping he would die, though, so he doesn't really count. But bringing you three in… It's power, yeah, but it's also companionship. That's a step to getting over his shit, right?" He sighs again, slumping lower. "He's a dick."

Isaac is silent for a moment, but then he laughs. "Only you could end such a heartwarming response with a dagger to the very same heart."

Stiles snorts. "Hey, you know me."

"Not well, but yes." He opens the door. "Do these look okay? I can't decide."

Stiles raises an eyebrow and looks them over. "They look fine."

Isaac rolls his eyes. "God, you are such a guy. Can you at least try?"

Stiles groans a little. "How many pairs do you have already?"

"Two, but I wanted three."

"Just get another of your favorite of the two you've already got. That's what I do. All my jeans are basically the exact same pairs and nobody notices or cares if they do."

Isaac gives a _not bad_ sort of look. "Yeah, alright."

They move onto somewhere else for a pair of shoes without holes in the soles, already having gotten shirts and socks and the like.

"Why'd you ask me that, anyway?" Stiles asks as Isaac is trying on a pair of Converse.

"Huh?"

"About Derek."

"Didn't I say? He's the alpha. It was just a question that popped into my head. I was there when Erica told Derek about…" He purses his lips. "About her crush on him. I just thought I'd try and help as well."

Stiles shrugs. "Yeah, okay, just let me know any plans you've got so they don't run into mine."

He raises an eyebrow as they walk to the counter. "I heard your last plan fell apart, actually. You really think something else is going to work?"

"Ugh, no." He grins. "Speaking of 'ugh', Derek said it when I asked if werewolves were into bestiality."

Isaac gives a disgusted look. "Ew, no. He really said that, though?"

Stiles nods. "And then he held my hand." He frowns. "No, wait, not like that."

Isaac is already laughing as they walk out of the store, finally done shopping so they can get food. "Maybe you should explain what you _did_ mean, then."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "We were talking about getting over stuff. I've already given him a couple of lectures, but not the same that I gave you. Anyway, he pissed me off and I hid under my blankets and he sat beside me and just rested his hand over mine with the blankets between it. Nothing like that, just as an apology."

Isaac gives him a weird look before frowning. "Wish he had held my hand after he broke my arm. He could have taken some of my pain away or something."

"No, it wasn't like that. You can't suck up an emotional pain, though that would be nice. He just squeezed it until I fell asleep. Anyway, I'm starving."

Isaac continues the weird look as they search for something to eat, but it finally goes away when they dig into whatever they ended up with. Stiles is glad for that. He's not really into being stared at unless it's because someone is actually attracted to him. Anything else is just another condescending look that Stiles doesn't need.

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

"Hey, Derek, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Derek looks up from where he's letting Erica rest a little after a long and tedious looking practice fight, eyes a dull red from breathing so hard. He's still stronger than his betas, but they're definitely learning. Boyd and Jackson are currently flopping onto the mattress, and Peter is at his apartment.

"Yeah, alright."

"Outside?"

He has no idea what it could be about, but he just nods instead of questioning it, ordering Jackson and Boyd to keep their ears shut. Jackson might try to listen, but Boyd will hit him over the head or something. He also sees Isaac nod at Erica when she asks if she can come with her eyes, so by that Derek knows that it has something to do with the whole mate with Stiles thing.

He leans against his car, and Isaac and Erica lean against Jackson's. "What's this about?" he asks. "Stiles?"

Erica gives Isaac a quizzical look, but it goes away when he nods.

"Let me guess," Derek says, crossing his arms. "You agree with her now."

Isaac lets out a long sigh. "I'm still thinking about it, but I am leaning towards it, yes."

"What made you think about it more?"

"We went shopping today, before I dropped him off at Scott's, and I was just asking him a couple of questions. I haven't had the mate talk with Peter yet, so I wasn't really sure what I was looking for, but I may have found it anyway."

Derek _did_ have the mate talk with his uncle, and it was a lot less overwhelming than Peter was making it out to be. "What exactly did you find?"

He holds up his cell phone. "I recorded stuff."

Even Erica snorts. "You _recorded_ his answers?" she asks.

"I wanted him to hear it for himself!"

Derek rolls his eyes. "Are you going to play it or do you want your turn at getting beat up?"

Isaac actually sticks his tongue out as he clicks through his phone. "I'll play it," he mutters, turning the volume up. "I got my question, too."

Derek takes a deep breath and forces himself to actually listen to it, if not to reward Isaac for finding a place that the Argent's have yet to find.

_ "Wha'dyou think of Derek?"_ Isaac asks. That was seriously his opening question? And he thinks he found something from it? Impressive. _"Stiles?"_  
_ "What do you mean?"_ Stiles asks.  
_ "Do you like him?"  
"He's kind of a dick."_ Yes, Stiles has told Derek that many a time.  
_ "But what do you really think about him?"  
"Dude, why does it matter?"  
"Because he's the alpha."  
"He's your alpha."  
"Go deeper than his being mean all the time, would you?"  
_ Stiles sighs. _"He needs to let things go."_ Also something he's been told. He hopes not all of this is repeat. He doesn't want to go and hold the kids hand again. _"Everyone who burned in the house is dead, Gerard puked black shit until his intestines came up with it, Peter died and now he's got a loyal scent to him, and he's got a pack. What more does he need to try and move on? My mom died seven years ago, and that's about the same time it's been since Derek's family, and I'm not over it in such a way that I don't care, but at least I can laugh every day!_

"_Getting over something doesn't mean you have to forget, though, you just have to be happy about what you still have. My dad, you know? He's my only family, but that's okay with me because I've accepted it. Not to mention all the friends I've got now, which is more than I've ever had."_ He sighs. _"Maybe the guy got lonely, you know? Maybe that's why he brought you, Erica, and Boyd into his whole mess. Jackson came because Derek was hoping he would die, though, so he doesn't really count. But bringing you three in… It's power, yeah, but it's also companionship. That's a step to getting over his shit, right?"_ He sighs again. _"He's a dick."_

Isaac turns it off, watching Derek closely, and Erica is as well. If they expected a declaration of love, they're in for a surprise. Stiles thinks that the reason Derek is so angry all the time is because of the fire, and Derek gathered that before, but it's going too damn far. He's a human, and he doesn't know _anything_.

"I'll be back," he says, shoving away from his car and walking towards the darkness.

"What?" Erica says. "Where are you—?"

"You _know_ where I'm going, but it's not for the reason you want it to be. I'm going to give him a bloody nose. Follow me and I'll break more than just an arm."

"But," Isaac starts to protest, "he doesn't know that I—"

Derek silences him before taking off at a run, dropping down to all fours on the way. He's going to kill him. He doesn't care if Scott tries to get in the way, he is literally going to kill him.

Scott's bedroom window is open, so it's easy for him to leap onto the roof and dive right in. Both Stiles and Scott yelp and leap to the nearest walls they're at, and Stiles is even holding a baseball bat.

"_You_," he snarls at Stiles. "Come with me, _now_."

He doesn't actually give the teen any time to prepare himself for that, but Scott protests a little before seeing the fury in Derek's eyes.

"Don't hurt him!" he yells through the window as Stiles gives a tiny scream when Derek yanks him off of the roof.

He slams Stiles against his Jeep. "You think I'm upset all the time because of the _fire_? That's not even the half of it. Every single person I've ever gotten close to _dies_. My best friend and every last member of my family. My sisters, my mother, my uncle—Peter may have come back to life, but not for free. He'll always have a darkness around his heart, like a scar, and so will Lydia for helping him. That type of thing doesn't go away; it's _death_, not a summer vacation to hell. I don't want to get close to people anymore because all of them _die_. Stop telling me to get over thing, Stiles! How many people that you're close to have actually _died_? One. I lost eight in the fire, one before it, and Peter. That's _ten_. You've suffered exactly one-_tenth_ of my pain—and I had to kill the first one myself, Stiles!"

Stiles looks beyond terrified, and Derek can smell Scott watching them closely from the window, as well as Melissa from the kitchen window. In fact, the fear is so strong, that Erica could probably smell it from the subway if she tried hard enough and the wind was strong enough.

"I don't need some teenager telling me what to put behind me," he says quieter, though still darkly, and his eyes are still red. "I don't need to get a lecture from you and then have to comfort _you_ until you fall asleep, and I sure as hell don't need a _mate_." Shit, of course he would say that. You'd think he'd be good at controlling his words while angry since he's _always_ angry, but apparently not tonight. He quick carries on and hopes that Stiles won't notice it: "So leave me alone about it before I rip your throat out, Stiles. I've done it before and I'll do it again. You've been helpful, but not enough that I'll keep you alive if you piss me off enough. I don't care if Scott and every last other werewolf is going to try and stop me, they won't be able to. _I'm_ the alpha, not you." He finally let's go of the front of his shirt, rips left behind from his claws.

Stiles is shaking a little, and he swallows a couple of times to try and answer, but before he has a chance too, Derek both hears and smells something simultaneously. The smell is like an extra strong forest, with dead leaves and moss and fungus, and then an underlying scent that stings Derek's nostrils so badly he almost has to reach up and plug his nose. The sound, though, is a sort of sound that seems like a mixture of a growl and a groan/moan of pain. It's deep and low and _angry_.

"Derek," Stiles whispers, voice shaking. "I hear it too. That's…that's a cat sound. Cat's make that sound when they're angry."

Derek may presently hate the kid, but he's not going to let him get hurt by something else's hand—or let himself get hurt, if whatever animal it is is just angry at Derek for scaring Stiles so badly. Maybe that's it… It could smell Stiles' fear and is coming to rescue him. He shoves Stiles behind him and quick shuffles backwards, glad when Scott jumps down to stand beside them.

They look frantically for whatever is making the sound and where the scent is, but it's so overpowering that Derek can't decide which direction it's coming in.

There's suddenly a loud howl, and seconds later, Peter pops up on the other side of Derek from Scott. "I called the others," he says. "Melissa invited me over for dinner."

"Good thing, too!" said female calls from inside of the house, the kitchen window slid open. "That is the loudest, angriest cat I have ever heard in my _life_, and I used to have a lot of cats when I lived with my parents."

Peter gives her a nod before looking back out in front of them.

"Should we go inside?" Scott asks.

"You and Stiles go in," Derek says, pushing the human over and behind his best friend. "Be careful. I can't tell which direction it's coming from."

The moaning doesn't stop, and neither does the scent go away—not even when Jackson's Porsche screeches to a halt in the middle of the road, and all four of Derek's pack all but falls out, obviously having completely crammed themselves inside.

"Yuck!" Erica says, pinching her nose. "What is that _smell_?"

"A cat," Peter says as they all move to stand at their backs, also watching the house. "A very big, mean, angry cat."

"How can you smell how big it is?" Isaac asks, batting Erica's hands away from her nose so she can help them sniff it out.

"Because it's too loud to be that small."

"Uh…guys?"

Everyone looks over at Jackson, and they quick follow where his eyes are looking to the roof of the McCall house. There, stretched out and standing, is a catlike creature that Derek has never seen or heard of. He can see it with his werewolf eyes, the way it's moaning down at them with completely black eyes but for yellow slits. It's obviously cat-related by the body, but there are many aquatic-like features to it, which explains why most of the dead animals are by the lake. Instead of fur it's more like scales, though the scales are in a design of a cat with brown fur and black spots. There are sharp spikes going down the middle of its back, webs between the fingers and toes of its paws, whiskers that look like tentacles, and its tail is _long_ and more like the body of an eel than a cat. The only feature not cat _or_ aquatic-like are the horns on its head that resemble those of bull.

"W-o-w," Peter says as they all take a few large steps back. "Not the big cat I expected."

Derek swallows tightly. "What is it?"

"I have _no_ idea."

"Why isn't it attacking us?" Isaac asks.

"I think it's trying to figure out what we are, too," Boyd says.

"That sound is getting annoying," Jackson mutters. "My cat made that sound before it ran away, but it wasn't near this bad—and neither was the _smell_."

Derek shushes them, looking down at the kitchen window. "Stiles," he says. "Come back out here."

Melissa starts protesting, but Scott is already bringing him out. Both of their eyes widen as well, staring up at it, and the creature's noise becomes even louder the moment that Stiles gets anywhere near the other pack members—and even more than that. It starts to growl along with it, and it sounds like literal thunder.

"What are you doing?" Erica growls.

Derek looks back up at the creature and spreads his arms out. "Stiles, give me a hug."

"A _hug_?!" Stiles yells, stepping backwards. The cat creature moves a few steps down the roof, crouching low. "What _for_?"

"I made it angry by scaring you. It might go away if it knows we're not angry anymore."

"There is no way in hell that I'm hugging you."

Derek huffs, still watching the creature as it moves a couple more steps. "This isn't about what happened five minutes ago anymore, this is about what that thing might do to _all_ of us if it stays angry."

"And _now_ might be a good time," Isaac whispers, "because that crouch looks like a pouncing position."

"Stiles, _now_."

"I'm not going to—"

Scott swings an arm up and punches lightly at his shoulder. "Do it, Stiles! We can beat him up for it later, but right now it's important!"

Stiles actually looks like he's about to say no again, but he ends up groaning before stepping forward and throwing his arms around Derek's waist. To be honest, Derek doesn't even remember the last time he gave somebody a hug. It was probably Peter or his mother, and he's always been smaller than them. Stiles is smaller than he is, and with completely different hair. It's longer than it used to be, spiked up a little in the front. Stiles is radiating anger with both breathing and heartbeat, but the moment they touch, it becomes a calm anger. An underlying anger that could resurface in any given moment—like the moment they let go.

Derek watches the cat creature closely as it moves slowly back and forth across the roof, the very tip of its tail flicking back and forth. It practically covers the entire roof with its pacing, still making that sound, but then…it's gone. It zips off of the other side and disappears.

Stiles literally shoves himself away from Derek as soon as everyone breathes a sigh of relief, stalking back into his house without a word. Scott and Isaac quick dart after him, and Erica looks like she really wants to but also really wants to know what happened between them. Peter just gives him a sad little look before shuffling Jackson and Boyd away.

Derek and Erica stand in silence for a grand total of three seconds before Erica punches him in the shoulder. "What the _fuck_ did you do to him?" she snarls.

Derek gives her a dark look. "I put him in his place."

"Derek, you can't do that! He was trying to _help_ you!"

"Back _off_, Erica! Just because you can smell something about our being mates doesn't mean that we _are_ yet. Not when he's still human. And if it's up to me he's going to _stay_ that way. Now, I can still smell that thing, and if we go now we can keep up with it until it stops."

Erica gives him a look of such intense hatred that Derek knows he'll never be forgiven, but she does follow him, including Isaac as he comes out of the back door of the house, leaving Scott to look after Stiles and Melissa. Even Jackson looks a bit annoyed at whatever Derek must have done. It wasn't that bad. He only yelled at him. His werewolf features didn't even come out.

* * *

End chapter notes: I may or may not be getting better at writing Derek, but that may just be because I've finished all of the Teen Wolf episodes a couple of days ago and I no longer have his constant hatred playing on a screen in front of me. Anyway! End of the 5th chapter. I don't know if Derek really would constantly worry about having a mate, especially when they're human, but this is my story and he totally does so there. Also, Isaac's joined the cause! Recording shit and whatnot.

Aaaaand obviously the creature was revealed! Not it's name, but I mean, you know what it looks like. I'm just going to tell you what the thing is now though, since it's not really a big deal when they find out about it later. It's called an Underwater Panther, and also known as the "mishibijw" in the Ojibew language. It's a prominent water being among the Northeast Woodlands Native American tribes. I don't know why I was so excited for choosing this thing out but I just love the idea of anything with sea creature-like features and I don't know it's cool looking! Feel free to look up "Underwater Panther" on Wikipedia if you actually want to read about it (it's cool I promise). Also I've got a picture that I totally referenced from: _Underwater Panther/Mishibizhiw_ by _kyoht_ on deviantart :) ALSO. There's this song by Alopex _called_ "Underwater Panther," so if you like pretty instrumental stuff you should look it up :P

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	6. Lost and Found

**6: Lost and Found**

_STILES  
Saturday, June 1…_

Stiles clomps up the stairs, slams Scott's bedroom door shut, and slumps down in front of it so Scott can't forcibly open it without risk of hurting him. He can hear Scott talking to his mom just at the end of the hallway, trying to explain exactly what the creature looked like.

Derek didn't hurt him. He didn't even make him angry. He just…he scared him. He terrified him. He literally almost peed his pants. He just leapt through a window and then leapt back out with Stiles before slamming him against his own car and basically vowing to kill him if he ever mentions the fire again. Melissa yelled after him about it not being his fault for just trying to help, but Stiles was never trying to help. Derek just annoys him and Stiles wants it to stop.

He takes a deep breath, lifting his head up. He was a fucking hair's width away from a panic attack. Derek definitely would have been attacked if that had happened.

Stiles frowns, looking across at the open window. He saw the thing on the roof, but only its silhouette since he doesn't have werewolf eyes. It was definitely a catlike body, but the tail was too long and it had horns or some shit. If Stiles just had the bestiary… Of course Derek took it, though, so he'll just have to use his computer. He swallows tightly, slowly standing up. It was protecting him. He doesn't know why, but this thing likes him. It's like he's the Matt to Jackson's kanima, except this one kills animals instead of people. He doesn't know about the fish or the turtles or snakes or frogs and stuff, but the cats… He gets it now. This catlike thing is getting rid of the competition, like Stiles actually cares about cats right now when he's running with wolves.

He moves as silent as he can across Scott's room, over his bed, out the window, and onto the edge of the roof. His heart is still beating fast—he can feel it against his chest—which means it might come back for him, right? He may be human, but now he can control something. Now he needs to find out exactly what that something is.

He jumps carefully off of the roof and into grass, and tries to do everything he can to stall his heart as he jogs across the street. He's got to get to the forest around the old Hale house, because that's the one the lake is in. He can follow the dead animals.

It doesn't take long for him to find, but it does suck that he didn't get his car on the way to the woods. There are a few dead things on the edge, but hardly anything. He follows them in, careful not to step on any turtle shells, but it's hard not to step on the frogs and snakes and things since they just look like more leaves in this light. The full moon isn't for another three weeks (appropriately on the last day of school), so right now it's only a half moon, and the sliver that's up there now is doing practically nothing for light through the trees.

Derek was right. The lake has the most dead animals. There's literally nowhere that he can step without stepping on something dead, and some of the things are even still moving. It smells rancid, and he's momentarily glad that he doesn't have the nose of a wolf—only momentarily, though, because he hears a rustling in the branches above him. Not by the window, either, and he just thinks he's hearing something. There is literally a rustling, and when he looks up… Yeah, those are definitely eyes.

He yelps loudly when he hears howling not far away, tripping backwards and gagging a little when he lands onto the dead animals around him. The pair of eyes leaps from the its tree, landing not even a full yard away from where Stiles is sitting down, and his heart starts to beat twice as rapid as before. It's the same cat creature as before, but now that it's closer, Stiles can actually make out distinct features besides a simple silhouette. The horns of a bull, a tail that looks like the body of an eel, webbed paws, tentacle-like whiskers, and scales instead of fur in a design that reminds Stiles a lot of a California spangled cat.

He only knows that because that's the type of cat he had before it ran away. Her name was Spandex, and Stiles distinctly remembers naming her that because his mom used to always have that type of material around for when she would go to the gym. Stiles also liked it because it had the same first four letters that the word "spangled" had. He had had her for six years before she ran away, and he never saw her again. Shame, since he liked her a lot. Yeah, she left dead shrews in his backpack, but still.

A low, thundering sound starts up, and for a second Stiles thinks he's going to get struck by lighting or something, but then he realizes… It's purring. The giant cat creature is purring.

He swallows deeply, lifting his hands up from where they're smashed into guts after sort of breaking his fall, and holds one of them out in front of him. There's another howl when that happens, a lot closer. The pack is closing in. He can't tell who which howl belongs to quite yet, but he'd bet that it's Derek's.

"Hey," Stiles tries to whisper, but it just comes out as a voice crack instead. "Hey," he says out, more confidently. "Don't be afraid." He knows the thing isn't afraid, but he's terrified, so he might as well talk to himself. "We're not going to hurt each other, right? You were protecting me." He lifts up his other hand, trying not to gag at the snake body he has to flick off of it. "Come 'ere, I won't bite."

The creature takes two tentative steps forward before closing the distance in an instant, its tentacle whiskers feeling all over Stiles' hands (it's tickles, but it's also terrifying) for a split second before its tongue (the same as any other cats) darts out and starts to lick everything off of Stiles' fingers. It's gross, but Stiles is thankful.

"You really are protecting me," he whispers, looking at his clean but wet hands when it's done. "Why?"

The purring gets louder as it moves even closer to let the tentacles wriggle over Stiles' face, and he tries really hard not to pull away from it. It ends up dropping down in front of him, its head resting down on one of Stiles' legs. Stiles has no idea what to do for a second since the thing doesn't have fur to pet, but he lets his hands roam slowly anyway. Over the horns and the tiny little ears tucked down behind them, and even slower over the scales in case they're like sharks and you'll get cut if you rub the wrong way. You don't.

"You look just like Spandex," he whispers, wishing the purring wasn't quite as loud as a fucking thunder storm. "You've even got the same eyes."

Before Stiles can say anything else, there's one more howl before the pack breaks through the trees and into the lake's clearing on the opposite side of the lake. Everyone gives out wide eyes, not sure if they should yell at Stiles to run or get away. Why would he need to, though? "Quick, run before it tries to protect you again!" Yeah, okay.

"Stiles?" Erica yells.

He doesn't get to answer before demon-Spandex stands at its full height, a paw darting forward to push at Stiles' chest until he's lying on his back and trying really hard not to throw up at the wet feeling of intestines against his arms and neck. The thunder storm adds in some lightning as demon-Spandex lets out a growl, the sound slowly morphing into the low moan that cats make when they're trying to sound terrifying. Stiles isn't sure about the wolves, but _he's_ certainly terrified again.

"I'm fine!" he yells, swallowing tightly when the sound stops completely as demon-Spandex looks down at him. "It's okay!" he says again, reaching a hand up to rub a hand over a horn. "It's not going to hurt me. Don't come any closer."

"Can you get out of there?" Isaac asks tentatively.

"Um…no. No, I don't think I can."

"Did it come back for you?" Boyd asks. "How did you get out here?"

Stiles mashes his lips together. He's not about to tell them that he came on his own.

"You came on your own, didn't you?" Peter asks.

Stiles sighs. "Shut up for like, five minutes. I've got an idea." He drops his hand from the horn and rubs lightly at the leg over his chest, pushing lightly. It totally works, and demon-Spandex moves its paw off of him, setting it down beside him. Stiles sits up slowly, and when the cat doesn't protest, he keeps getting up until he's standing. The thing comes up to about his ribcage, and that's without the horns. He swallows tightly and turns a little, facing it with one of his bare arms covered in blood and other disgusting animal bits. Just as he thought, demon-Spandex moves to lick all of it off, and it circles him to get the other arm as well. Stiles is about to bend over so that it can get it's neck, but instead it rears up behind him and rests its paws lightly against his back to get to it—_just_ light enough that it doesn't push Stiles over.

"See?" he saws, grinning over at the pack. "It likes me. It was just trying to protect me. It's not killing people, right? So we don't need to hurt it. It'll just…" He trails off, looking around at the pack in their werewolf forms. "Where's Derek?"

At that very second, said alpha bursts out of the trees nearest to Stiles and demon-Spandex, roaring at the cat-creature.

It drops down on all fours and circles around to stand between him and Stiles, hissing in such a way that it sounds like the bone-breaking spray of a waterfall.

"Stiles, come over here," Derek says darkly.

Stiles glares at him. "I wasn't trying to help you, you dick. It just pisses me off that you're always mean to everyone. I don't care if you get over it; I care if you stop taking it out on everyone else. The only reason that it came across that I cared is because that's the only way that you're ever going to get rid of that constantly constipated look." He rests a hand on the top of demon-Spandex's head, rubbing lightly. "I'm not coming with you. I'm safer with this thing than with you. It doesn't slam me up against my own car and threaten my life."

Derek rolls his eyes. "You're going to live in the forest, then? Is that it? That thing lives underwater, Stiles. If you didn't notice, you're still human, and you can't exactly breathe underwater."

"It probably knows that." He squats down beside it. "Right?" he says, scratching lightly underneath its chin, earning a thunderous purr. "See? That's a _happy_ sound. Leave us _alo_—"

At that moment, Stiles is yanked away from demon-Spandex and into the arms of Erica and Isaac, while Jackson and Boyd drop between all of them. Derek was distracting them on purpose. That little—

It doesn't last long. Demon-Spandex snarls like lightning and slams through the barrier of the two wolves, ignoring Peter behind it and Derek still off to the side. It arches around Isaac and Derek like only an animal with the spine of a cat can do, slashing through them as well before he's behind Stiles and somehow grabbing at his waist with its mouth and _not_ running him through with its teeth. Stiles only gets a couple of seconds to give a wide-eyed look at the other surprised looks around him, and then he and demon-Spandex are sailing through the air above the lake.

They don't make it all the way across, though… They crash right into the water, disappearing beneath it. Stiles doesn't even get a proper breath. He just gets a very last sight before he has to squeeze his eyes shut: Derek's face. Not angry, like it usually is. He's scared. Stiles has never, since the moment that he met him, seen Derek look that utterly terrified. A single word races through Stiles' mind as he disappears beneath the waves, but he doesn't have time to decipher it before he just start panicking at the fact that he can't breathe.

_Mates_.

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

Derek doesn't waste any time. "Get Scott!" he yells as he practically rips his leather jacket off, and then he doesn't even wait for an answer before sprinting forward and diving into the water. He can't see very well, even with his werewolf eyes, and he can't use his sense of smell because if he sniffs in he'll have to come back to the surface because he's choking. He does sense Isaac and Boyd dive in after him, though, which is fine since he's going to need their help if they're going to cover the entire lake. It's not _that_ big, but he knows how deep it is, and it's not exactly the shallow end of a pool.

He swims passed some tiny fish and a few aquatic snakes, searching frantically for Stiles. He never should have yelled at him, even _if_ his werewolf features didn't come out. He should have just raised an eyebrow and asked Isaac why he thought the recording would change anything, but no, he let his anger get the best of him.

Now Stiles is drowning in a lake under some demonic looking water cat creature and it's all Derek's fault. So what if Erica is right? He can't let Stiles die. Mate or not, right now the teen is his responsibility, and he's not about to let anybody else around him die. They're not even close yet, but here he is, frantically searching for an underwater monster and his favorite human. Stiles may be annoying as hell, but he's… He's okay.

Derek breaks the surface of the water just long enough to grab another lungful of air, but then he's diving straight back down, and this time Erica dives down with him as well. She's in just her bra and underwear, so she must have been stripping so her usual boots, heavy jacket, and jewelry wouldn't slow her down.

Nothing. He can't find anything. He can see just enough that he knows what he's covered, and he knows he's looking in the same places that Isaac and Boyd have already searched, but it doesn't matter. He has to find him. He'll die. He's still a human. Derek curses himself. Even if Stiles was a werewolf now, he wouldn't be able to breathe underwater. He probably wouldn't have been taken, though… The cat thing wouldn't have taken to him and then he wouldn't be down here. If Derek has already had to go back up for air, Stiles is definitely passed out by now. Which means, by the time that Derek needs to go back up again, he'll be…

No. He won't be. Derek will find him. Derek or Isaac or Erica or Boyd. One of them has to. It's not like they could have actually _gone_ anywhere. The lake is here. It doesn't branch out. There are no creeks running out of it that they could have shrunken down and taken, and the others are still watching on the surface, so they couldn't have jumped back out on the other side and gotten away.

When he comes up for his second breath, Scott is there, kicking off his shoes at the same time that he's leaping through the air and diving in beside him. Erica surfaces as well, mascara running now her face and lipstick smudged across her cheek.

"Did you find anything?" she asks frantically.

"Nothing!" Derek snarls. "I can't see enough and I can't smell _anything_!"

"Keep looking!" Jackson says, skidding to a halt by the lake. He must have been the one to get Scott. Derek did hear a faint howl while he was swimming, but it wasn't important while he was down there. "He can't die!"

Derek doesn't give himself enough time to care that Jackson actually cares about Stiles dying or not. He just dives back down, bumping into the other wolves and feeling over rocks and digging up any little holes in the dirt or stones that fish and snakes and things disappear into. He just…he keeps diving. Break the surface, take a breath, dive back down, and search. Repeat. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

He doesn't know how long he's looking, but it's long after Stiles would have passed out. He's dead now. Wherever he is, he's dead.

Someone grabs under his armpits to haul him out when he surfaces near the edge of the lake, and Derek actually has to look up to see that it's Peter. His eyes are blurry from keeping them open underwater and his brain feels like it's going to give out after having accidentally swallowed so much water. Isaac and Boyd move to crawl out as well, letting Jackson help them out. Derek wants to dive back in, but…

Erica has to literally drag Scott out of the lake as well, little sobs shaking her body while Scott is literally having a panic attack. Isaac scrambles over to help Erica calm the omega down, and Derek leans over to cough up some water.

"Nothing?" Peter asks solemnly.

"Nothing," Boyd rasps, doing the same as Derek.

His smell is coming back, and the dead animals around are beginning to overpower it. The cat creature, though… Its scent is completely gone. He can't smell it at all, not even where it used to linger.

When Scott finally calms down, he scrambles over to Derek. "What _happened_?" he snarls, his werewolf features slowly going away. The only one who still has them out is Jackson. Peter is crouched down between Derek and Boyd, and Isaac is holding tightly to Erica while she tries to stop crying.

Derek looks over at him, still trying to blink away a few blurry spots of his vision. "We followed it here, but Stiles was here as well. You were supposed to be watching him, Scott."

"He locked himself in my room! What was I supposed to do? I was giving him space, okay? I didn't know he was going to sneak out of the window and go _looking_ for it!"

Derek growls low in his chest, looking away. "It's my fault, too," he grinds out. "If I hadn't made him so angry it wouldn't have come."

"Maybe," Peter says, "but you know that this would have happened eventually. Maybe not with Stiles being dragged underwater, but he would have come looking for it. He may have taken somebody with him, though, and he probably would have waited until we actually had a name for the thing."

"What do we do now?" Erica asks, wiping her hands down her face and smudging the mascara even more. Boyd gets up to bring her clothes to her, and he and Isaac help her get them on over wet skin.

"We can't just leave him down there. He's drowning!"

"Not anymore," Peter says, standing up. "Not after that long."

Isaac swallows tightly. "You mean he's—"

"He's not dead!" Scott roars.

Peter rests a hand on his shoulder. "He couldn't have survived that long, Scott… Even us as werewolves wouldn't have been able to. The creature thought it was protecting him from us and took it one step too far. He's gone, Scott."

Scott wipes an arm furiously across his face to wipe away a tear, smearing even more water across his face since his clothes are soaking wet. "Even if he is, I'm not leaving the lake. We have to find his body. We have to do something _more_."

"Like what, Scott?" Derek asks softly. He's at a loss for everything. Stiles is gone because of him. Just one more person he needs to add to his list, and also another for the sheriff. "Sit around until he floats to the surface? Wait for that cat thing to bring him back out and apologize? The only way we're going to find him is if we drain the entire lake, and we can't do that on our own. We'd have to get the fire department out here to suck it up with hoses or something."

Scott whimpers a little and drops onto his back. "What do I tell his dad?" he whispers.

"We all went swimming and Stiles didn't come back up?" Jackson supplies. "That would actually get the fire department out here, right? We'll deny that Derek and Peter were here, and then we'll get Lydia to say she was here as well. Obviously Allison wasn't since you guys aren't supposed to be dating, but the rest of us…" He nudges lightly at Scott's side with his foot. "They'll find his body, Scott. And if they won't, we're not just going to sit around and wait for it to float back up."

Scott gives him a dark look. "Why do _you_ care?"

"Stiles may have pissed me off more often than not, but that didn't mean I wanted him dead."

Derek stands as Scott nods, slowly sitting up. "You may not sit and wait for his body, but the rest of us will take turns," he says. "We'll wait forty-eight hours before we tell anyone. Sheriff Stilinksi thinks that he's staying over at Scott's place, so that's how we'll keep it up. His phone went down with him, so Scott, have Melissa call him and tell him that Stiles is going to stay over two nights instead of just this one. You can tell her what happens right away. And, while we're waiting…" He motions to all the dead things around. There literally isn't a single open place. "Let's clear some of this out of the way. Just a chunk big enough that we can all sit around without having to sit on blood and intestines."

"I'm not taking turns," Erica says quietly, standing up to put her pants on. "I'm not leaving this lake until we find him."

"Neither am I," Scott, Isaac, and Boyd echo in unison.

Derek nods, expecting it. "We can't all stay right yet," he says. "Just one for now, so we can gather up supplies."

"I've got a whole bunch of camping stuff," Jackson says. "I can bring it all out here."

"And I'll get the bestiary and my laptop," Peter says.

Derek nods. "I want all of you to leave just this once so you can get extra clothes and some food. Do it as fast as you want, and give whatever excuse you want to your families. I'll wait here in case anything happens."

"I'll get stuff for you," Peter says, patting the top of his head.

Derek doesn't care enough to try and bite his hand off. He just nods again, and then everyone flits off. He stays there by himself, sitting down on dead things with his legs cross and arms resting out on his knees. He's never cried for a death yet, and he's certainly not going to now. Maybe Erica was right, but not yet. If Stiles was his mate, he's not anymore. And now Derek will never have to deal with the word again. He wishes the idea were under different circumstances.

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES…_

The last thing Stiles remembers before blacking out was water—water _everywhere_. He couldn't see or hear anything under the surface of the lake except the sound of swimming underneath it.

Now it smells bad, but different than all of the dead animals. Like a public restroom that hasn't been cleaned in so many years that the inside of the toilets are starting to mold.

He coughs himself completely awake, water pouring of his mouth. It's dark, so he can't see anything, but he hears water rushing quietly beside him. Is he in a sewer? There's a warm body pressed tightly against him. He sees yellow slits for eyes staring at him, so he knows that it's demon-Spandex.

The cat creature leans closer, and Stiles is too exhausted to care that there are creepy tentacles wriggling across his face before a rough tongue starts to lick over every inch of visible skin around his clothes.

He almost drowned. Shit, the pack… They think he's dead. They probably think that he's dead. They wouldn't have been able to see the cave that demon-Spandex disappeared into, so they think he's somewhere dead in the lake. He has to tell them. He has to get out of here and…and tell them.

But he's so tired, and his new protector is so warm and, somehow, soft. He doesn't want to move. He…can't…move…

**XxX**

When Stiles wakes up next, he's no in the sewer anymore, but across something softer. He opens his eyes slowly, looking up at the ceiling of…

He frowns, looking around. He's in his bed. He's in his own room, and the window is wide open. And, to make matters even worse, demon-Spandex is sprawled out across the end of Stiles bed like any other cat would be. It brought him back here?

He sits up slowly, trying not to disturb it. His clothes are dry, and so is the bed he's in. There's no way his clothes would have dried in any sort of fast speed, which means it's been at least a day.

He digs into his pocket for his phone, but lets out a deep sigh when he sees that it's soaking wet. Probably dead, but he takes out the battery and shoves it into the bowl of rice he has by his bed anyway. He might as well try to salvage it.

Demon-Spandex stirs as Stiles pulls his legs out from under it, and it wakes up completely when Stiles sets his feet on the floor.

"Um…good morning?" Stiles says quietly, giving it an awkward grin.

It purrs a little and shuffles closer to him, rubbing against his shoulder with the top of his head so its horns don't stick into him.

"You probably don't know what day it is either," he says, patting it before slowly standing it. It stays where it is, watching Stiles as he moves over to his laptop. It's one in the morning, on Monday. It was Saturday night when everything happened, so Stiles has been out for the count for nearly an entire day.

He needs to contact his friends. They think he's dead, right? They're probably still at the lake, looking for him. Maybe not everyone, but he knows that Scott at least is, and lately he's pretty sure that Erica would stick around as well, which means they're probably all there just so they can comfort those two.

He can't go into the hallway 'cause he'll wake his dad, but he can't call anyone because his phone is currently out for the count, so it looks like he's walking into the forest on foot again.

He looks over at demon-Spandex, lips pursed. "I gotta go, alright?" he says. "You can stay here or follow me, but you can't keep protecting me from them. They're not trying to hurt me." He moves to the window, and he's not at all surprised when his new "friend" moves right after him. Usually cats aren't very loyal, but this isn't a full cat, so oh well.

He gets all the way to the forest edge with demon-Spandex following after him before the cat circles in front of him, hissing lightly as it faces the forest.

"I know, I know," Stiles says, patting its side so he doesn't impale his hand on the spikes. "But they're my friends, okay? Just because they're part-dog and you're part-cat doesn't mean that you get to keep me away from them. I had them first."

It gives stiles a dark look, and its eel-like tail flicks out to wrap around Stiles' waist. It drags him closer until he's held against its side before letting go, and then he plops down on the ground with its paws tucked underneath him.

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Are you… Do you want me to get on your back or something?"

Its tail waves lazily back and forth, still looking out ahead instead of at Stiles.

"I can't, you've got spikes lining your back. I'll kill myself riding you."

At that, the spikes all begin to shift, and Stiles watches in awe as they flatten out against his back before sinking away completely. He grins. "You know, you're pretty cool when you're not being annoying." He leans down and rests his hands against demon-Spandex's back before swinging a leg over and lowering himself down, and the very next thing is demon-Spandex pushing up into a standing position before it begins to move into the forest.

Stiles grins, leaning down so not all of his weight is in the middle of its back. "I can't believe it," he mutters as they march in. "I'm riding a giant cat like people ride horses into battle. This is going to be so hard to explain."

He holds on tight the entire way, but demon-Spandex comes to a halt the moment they get a few yards from where Stiles knows the clearing around the lake is. He looks through the trees and sees multiple fires, and there are… He grins. Tents. His friends really are waiting for him, and they're burning some of the dead animal bodies in the process.

He swings off of demon-Spandex's back to stand beside him, stroking him soothingly. "You can stay here or come with me," he whispers, "but don't protect me."

While it—you know, this is stupid. Stiles bends down, looking underneath demon-Spandex's body. While _she_ purrs a little, her tail is still flicking somewhat angrily, so Stiles gives her one more pat on the head before moving through the woods more to make it into the clearing. He can't see any of his friends from here, but he can see a faint silhouette through one of the fires and hear some other voices on the other sides of the tents.

He swallows tightly and moves forward some more, making his way around to the fireplace. It's Peter, reading intently from the bestiary. Stiles is about to say something, since he's obviously very into his reading, but Peter looks up first. He just sort of glances up at him for a second with a light "Hey" before looking back down, but then he looks back up so fast that Stiles gets whiplash just from looking at him.

"Oh my god," he whispers.

Stiles gives a crooked smile. He knows his hair is lying all wrong and that he's got a few bruises and that he smells like literal shit, but he's really hoping somebody will give him a hug anyway. "Hey," he says, his voice cracking very slightly.

Peter lets out a sort of bark that Stiles is definitely going to be making fun of later, and the very next second, every last other member of the pack, plus Lydia and Allison, appear around him, eyes wide. He looks around at them, his grin still crooked, and takes it all in.

They all erupt into words at the same time, and Scott, Erica, and Isaac move to hug him at the same time as well.

Most of them are saying stuff about how they thought that he was dead, Jackson is saying something about how even he was worried, Lydia is giving him a very fond smile as she tells him that he stinks, and Erica is crying. The only person who's not saying a thing is Derek, standing on the edge of the fire with wide eyes and even a dropped jaw.

Stiles stares at him as everyone is talking to him and touching him, face as emotionless as he can get it. Eventually the hugs stop, and he taps lightly on the tip of Erica's nose before pushing passed them, moving until he's standing right in front of Derek.

All of the wolves stay silent as they watch, and eventually Stiles has to break that silence: "Got anything to say to me?" he grinds out.

Derek closes his jaw and narrows his eyes more. "I'm glad you're alive," he says tightly.

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Yeah, no thanks to you."

"I was the first one in the water to go after you," he hisses. Not a cat hiss, obviously. "None of us could hardly see, and we couldn't smell anything at all."

"There's an opening at the bottom," Stiles says. "She brought me out into the sewers. That's why I smell like shit, by the way." Before Derek can say anything more, Stiles turns away from him and smiles at the others. "So, I've been out for a day?"

"We were going to wait forty-eight hours before we told anybody else," Boyd says as Erica throws her arms around Stiles again.

"We've just been waiting here," Isaac says. "We thought you were dead, so… You know, for your body to float up."

"I was almost dead," he says, looking over Erica's shoulder at everyone else as he holds her back. "I blacked out while in the water, and the next thing I remember is coughing water up in the sewers. I would have come out then, but I passed out from exhaustion. After that I woke up in my bed."

Scott frowns. "It took you there?"

"_She_ took me there," he says, pulling away from Erica, "and she also brought me here."

They all give confused looks.

"I still haven't seen this thing," Lydia says in exasperation.

"I found what I think it is," Peter says, "but there isn't a picture in the bestiary, and the stuff on my computer looks like native American carvings into rock, so it's not very easy to see."

Stiles grins, backing away from all of them. "I can show you," he says, moving towards the edge. "I think she's still in here…" He walks into the forest a little, looking around. He spots her in the exact same spot, the very tip of her tail flicking unhappily. He clicks his tongue a little, though, and she moves over to him, rubbing around his legs.

"They won't chase you if you don't run," Stiles says, petting the top of her head. "They're just like dogs. They're not going to hurt you unless you hurt them."

He knows that she can't understand him, but she follows him out anyway, her tail curled around one of his legs as they walk. Lydia yelps a little bit and lets Jackson wrap his arms around her, but Allison looks positively fascinated.

"I used to have a cat with the same pattern," he says. "It's the pattern of a California spangled. Her name was Spandex, back before she ran away. I've just been calling this one demon-Spandex in the meantime."

She hisses the moment that any of the wolves try to move closer, but she doesn't do anything as Allison moves closer.

"The perks of being a human," she says, grinning at Stiles as she walks right up to him. Stiles admires Allison, really. She's very brave.

"You can pet her, if you want," he says. "She won't bite you." He looks up at the others. "You guys, though, I'm not sure."

"Even if it won't bite us," Jackson says, "why is it _here_? It suddenly just showed up to protect you? There's got to be a reason for it."

Stiles frowns, letting Allison keep his new "pet" distracted while he goes over to sit beside Peter by the fire. "What is it?" he asks. "What did you find?"

He sighs, handing him the bestiary and also pulling things up on his laptop. "It's called an underwater panther in English, but in the Ojibwa language it's known as a lot of things that start with 'mish', one of them being the mishibijw. All of the 'mish' names translate into 'the great lynx', and there's also the _Gichi-anami'e-bizhiw_, and that translate as 'the fabulous night panther'."

Stiles can't help but snort. "Maybe I should get it a tutu."

Jackson actually laughs at that, but everybody just blinks down at him.

"Sorry, continue."

Peter nods. "The Ojibwe traditionally held them to be masters of all water creatures, including snakes—which means Jackson would definitely be dead if he was still the kanima. They're said to live in the deepest parts of rivers and lakes"—he motions to the lake behind the tents—"where they can cause storms if they want. Some traditions believe it to be a helpful, protective creatures, but more of them viewed it as a 'malevolent beast that brought death and misfortune'. Apparently, to the Algonquin Indians, it was thought to guard the vast amounts of copper in Lake Superior and the Great Lakes region. They're described as the monsters that live in opposition to the Thunderbirds, which are the masters of the air. They are an opposing yet complementary force, and they live in eternal conflict."

He closes the laptop. "Obviously this one is one of those helpful, protective creatures, but we're yet to figure out why. There have been other close encounters listed around, but if this exists, then that means a whole bunch of other things do as well, and these things are not exactly nice."

"Is that what it's protecting me from?" Stiles asks. "All those evil creatures? Maybe it thinks that you guys are on that list instead of actually being my friends. I really doubt that most werewolves would just take a human in, you know? I'm only here because I was friends with Scott before he turned."

"That's true," Scott says. "If he wasn't here we probably would have thought that he was some sort of evil deity and killed him _and_ that swimming panther thing."

"What sort of evil things again?" Lydia asks.

"Things without names," Peter says. "Nothing fun. I don't think that your new friend, Stiles, killed any of these animals, though."

Stiles frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The mishibijw is the master of all water creatures; they would rule them, not destroy them. It's like something else is here as well, killing its subjects and food. The cats were probably to be its allies, so they destroyed them as well."

"Why were they throwing the cats at me, then?"

"Obviously this female mishibijw has a connection to you, and we need to figure out exactly what it is."

"Um…guys?" Allison says. "I may have figured out exactly what the connection is."

Stiles frowns, moving over to it. Some of the wolves start to move as well, but when demon-Spandex hisses, they stay away and watch from afar. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"You said you used to have a cat with the same body pattern, right?" Allison asks.

He nods.

"Look here, at her neck." She traces fingers over the spot she means. "This is a different pattern than the rest of her. Just black, and there's a silver circle on her chest."

Stiles frowns, looking closer. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, it looks like…" He swallows tightly, dropping down to look for the silver circle.

"It looks like a collar's been fused into her skin," Allison finishes. "Peter, is it possible for a house cat to be turned _into_ one of these things?"

Peter opens his laptop again and hands Derek the bestiary. "We'll look."

Stiles swallows tightly. "Allison, are you saying that this might actually be my old cat?"

She nods, continuing to stroke around demon-Spandex's neck. "Did she used to come to you if you called her name?"

"Cats never come when you call their names."

"Would _she_, though?"

"Only when she thought I had food."

"Go onto the other side of the lake and call her name."

Stiles groans a little as he starts walking, and Allison stays with his maybe actually old pet as he gets around to the other side. "Spandex!" he calls. "Come 'ere girl!" He whistles and clicks his tongue a bit.

It's only expected because the thing has been following him everywhere, but the fact that it's sprinting is a little bit much. It practically balls Stiles over, rearing up on her back legs and resting her paws against his shoulders before licking a strip up his face.

"Yuck," Stiles says, pushing her down. "This is like that movie where the guy let a lion go and when he came back it remembered him."

"Hey Stiles, we found something," Peter calls.

Stiles looks over at him, letting demon-Spandex lick over his hand. "What?"

He and Derek exchange a look before he calls again: "Allison is right."

Stiles eyes widen, and he looks down at the creature. "Spandex?" he asks, incredulous.

And she purrs.

* * *

End chapter notes: Good plot twist? I don't know, it was fun to write and that's what matters to me :P I did make up a few things in this chapter, like if housecats can become mishibijw (which I have no idea how to pronounce, by the way, so I've been reading it as Mitsubishi instead…). And I honestly had no intension of bringing in different creatures, but it sort of just spewed out when I was writing this chapter. I mean, Spandex has got to be protecting him from something, right? Something besides the werewolves, too, because if she won't let Stiles get near them then I can't have Stiles and Derek end up together. Also no making fun of my name for her… It didn't just spew out, I gave me the Heimlich maneuver until I puked. Also yeah why would she kill the things that are like half her own kind? I didn't really think about that when I was writing it, I just wanted something to be sketchy so they would know there was something else going on. Now I've got to pick out more monsters, though. It's gonna take forever finding something perfect lol

Anyway! End of the sixth chapter, yippee. I think I did pretty good with the whole Derek not actually giving an apology to Stiles even though he really did care about the whole ordeal. Eventually Spandex will indeed accept the werewolves enough to let them near her, too. Not sure what I'll do about Lydia being a banshee; she'll probably be told in the next chapter or so.

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	7. One More Glass

**7: One More Glass  
**

Quick note: There are going to be mentioned birthdays in this chapter, and I looked for like the birthdays of actual characters but couldn't find any, so I'm just having everyone have them as whatever their actor's birthdays are. The only problem with that is, if you actually look at the whole "this is what you're like if you've got this star sign" thing, they're not going to be super similar since that's not ACTUALLY their birthdays. Oh well! Also they're not going to completely coincide with what's implied in the shows because I don't want to make it complicated. I mean how Stiles' birthday is obviously after school starts, and Scott's is just before it. Ignore that.

* * *

_DEREK  
Tuesday (in the middle of the night), June 3…_

Derek pours through the bestiary angrily, searching for anything else that the mishibijw (Spandex? Who names _any_ animal that?) could be protecting Stiles from. She's still not getting near any of the wolves, but that's fine since she smells like hell. Everyone packed up camp, now giving Stiles hell for letting them think he was dead so they'd have to lug a whole bunch of crap into the middle of the woods.

Currently everyone is at Lydia's house again, everyone having gone to school on Monday as far as Sheriff Stilinksi knew. Melissa knew they hadn't, though, and he's not sure what Erica, Boyd, or Jackson's parents were told. They probably won't end up going to school on Tuesday either, but they might. It's about two in the morning now, and they're all in their same positions on the basement couches as when they watched Independence Day. Not Stiles, though. He's curled up in a dark corner in the very back of the basement, Spandex curled beneath him.

He's already read the entire book, plus gone through Peter's laptop, but there's not a single creature that's linked specifically to the underwater panther that it would find its old master and protect it from the dangers around it. He can't even find anything about underwater panthers doing that in the first place, but he doubts there are that many mishibijw that were once housecats.

He sighs, slamming the book shut and standing up. Spandex watches him closely, slits glowing brightly in the corner.

"Don't give me that look," he whispers, resisting the urge to plug his nose some more. He and the others are slowly getting used to it, but they're not quite to that point. "You're the one that almost drowned him." He disappears out of the basement door and up the stairs, hoping for some fresh air. It's much nicer out here, and there haven't been anymore dead animals. Whatever was killing them probably stopped since they've all figured out just exactly what the creature is.

He growls to himself, dropping onto one of the pool chairs. What _is_ the other beast, though? Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with Spandex at all, and she just happened to be around at the right time to protect her human. Why would the other creatures throw the dead cats at Stiles, though? Maybe as a warning to the mishibijw?

He sighs, pushing a hand through his hair. He needs a shower. All of them do. Stiles got one, thankfully (he _smelt_ like a sewer, not to mention the overpowering linger of Spandex), but it's been a couple of days for the others. Lydia took one the moment Stiles was done, of course, but Allison just sprayed herself in perfume. The wolves, though, smell like wet dogs. Derek hates dog jokes, but this isn't even a joke. They smell terrible from diving into the lake and sitting around rotting animals and fire.

"Fancy meetin' you here."

Derek drops his hand and looks up to see Stiles walking away from the stairs, Spandex right on his heels. The cat creature is more like a dog than a cat from what Derek has heard the others say; apparently cats don't usually follow people around so closely. The protective part of its myth must be a very serious one.

"Are you going to school tomorrow?" he asks.

Stiles shrugs, dropping into the chair beside him. Spandex gives Derek a light hiss as he curls between the two chairs, and Stiles drops his hand down to rub absentmindedly over her back. "I probably should, since every last one of us was gone. My dad'll find out eventually and I don't really want to tell him everything that's going on yet."

"You should tell him soon," Derek says, watching his fingers dance over the scales. "If people are going to start dying instead of animals he should know about it."

Stiles sighs, dragging his free hand down his face. "One second I'm under constant protection from an unknown monster, the next I'm being protected by that monster from the other monsters. It was hard enough figuring out what Spandex was, and now we've got to figure out all new things. Can't they just show up and shake our hands so we can invite them in for beer or something? Why do things always have to kill people instead? It's not like there aren't enough animals around. Who doesn't like a good steak every now and again?"

Derek looks over at the teens face, staring up at the stars. "How much do you love the stars, Stiles?" he asks quietly.

Stiles gives him a weird look before looking back up. "They're my favorite, I think. Constellations were one of the first things that I got into. I know all about them. I'm into the whole star sign thing, too, though I don't really believe it. You know, Pisces and Libra and all that. My birthday is August twenty-sixth, so I'm a Virgo. My sign is literally the virgin." He glances over, an annoyed look on his face. "I am, if it wasn't obvious, so I suppose it's appropriate, but still."

Derek nods, looking back down at his hand over Spandex. "My birthday is September eleven."

Stiles is silent for a moment. "Your birthday is—"

"Yes, nine-eleven. There are plenty of other people with the birthday as well."

"I'm just saying it kinda sucks. How old are you, anyway? Like, twenty? I know you're only a few years older."

Derek realizes he's resisting the urge to pet Spandex as well. Maybe if he gets on her good side he'll stop getting hissed at. "A few, maybe, but still a few more than that."

"How much more?"

"How much is a few?"

He rolls his eyes. "God, you're cryptic. Three?"

"Right."

"So you're twenty-three?"

"Right again."

Stiles mashes his lips together. "That's like, seven more. That's a few twice plus one!"

Derek raises a single eyebrow again. "Trying to do math again, Stiles?"

Stiles breathes a laugh. "Yeah, man, I'm gonna win the Field's Medal one day." He looks down at his own hand as well. "Wanna know something, though?"

"Not really," Derek replies.

"Sucks, 'cause I'm telling you anyway. You're a Virgo, too."

Derek looks back up at Stiles' grinning face. "Erica's is September fifth. She's between ours, so that means she's one too, right?"

Stiles gives an incredulous look. "Wow, really? That's cool."

"What does it say about two Virgos ending up together?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Wondering what it would be like if you gave in?"

Derek nods, though he and Stiles are thinking of two different things he could give in to. There's his thing with Erica that doesn't actually exist, but then there's the thing with him and Stiles that he's pretty sure really does exist.

Stiles buzzes his lips. "To be broad, you guys would get along very well. Everything that I've read said that two Virgos is actually equivalent to a paradise." He grins. "You should take her on another shopping trip. She'd told me how you bought her that outfit with the leopard print heels. Why cats?"

Derek shrugs, looking down at the teens hands again. "I've told you before, I really do care. She hated herself, and I didn't want her feeling that way anymore."

"You might have done a little too well at that, FYI. She's totally conceited. Rightfully so, but still, we don't need another Jackson equivalent power complex." He lifts his hand away from Spandex. "Wanna pet her?"

Derek frowns at him. "Won't she try and eat me or something?"

"She might not if we do it at the same time. Here, give me your hand." He takes Derek's closest hand before he can even answer, twining just a couple of fingers together so that their palms will be able to lie flat right beside each other. "Just rest it for a minute," Stiles says as he presses their hands slowly against the scaly hide.

Spandex instantly gives a low growl, and her tail flicks up to wrap around Derek's arm.

"Leave him alone, 'Dex," Stiles says, flicking at the tail with his other hand. "He's not going to hurt you either. Only when you run, remember?"

At that, the tail lets go, and Stiles untwines their fingers. "There," he says. "She likes you enough to let you touch her when I'm around. Congrats."

Derek swallows tightly. "I'm sorry, Stiles."

Stiles licks his lips. "It's fine."

"I know when people are lying."

Stiles sighs, pulling his hand away from Spandex. "It's fine that you got pissed off because you thought I was trying to help you, alright? What's got me mad at your right now is the fact that you didn't apologize right _away_. Are you too tough to do it in front of your pack or something? They were waiting for it too, you know." He drags a hand down his face. "You're a dick and it pisses me off. My mom died, but I'm not going to treat everyone like shit because of it. If you don't want me to give you lectures anymore, that's fine, but you better stop treating everyone worse than even Jackson does. You lighten up and I'll back off. Promise."

Derek blinks at him, trying really hard not to glare. "I can't do it cold turkey," he says. "I haven't laughed in… I don't remember."

Stiles gives him a warm smile. "I did have a dream about you once, you know. You were only in it for a second, but you were laughing at a joke that I told. You were the only one laughing. That's how much I hate how one-sided emotion-y you are. There are 'good' emotions, like being happy and love and shit, but then you're just on the 'bad' side, with anger and sadness and pain. I don't like it."

Derek swallows deeply. Maybe he can't smell it, but Erica is right. Derek knows she's right. He's not really sure what he's going to do about it, especially with Stiles as a human, but… "What did you wish for when that star fell?" he asks.

Stiles blushes a little and looks away. "I wished that the person of my dreams would love me back."

"Lydia?"

He nods. "I was trying to be really broad. Maybe the less specific I am, the more likely it is to come true."

Derek takes a deep breath. "Stiles, I have to tell you something." Is he really going to tell him?

Stiles gives him a quizzical look. "What sort of something?"

Yeah, he really is. "It's about Erica's plan to get her and me together."

"I already know that you know about it."

"No, it's more complicated than that."

He frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Erica has been lying to you about everything, Stiles. She doesn't like me, and she never had a girl in mind for you to meet at the rave."

His frown turns very sad. "You mean…" He trails off, looking away. "She doesn't actually like me, does she?" he asks quietly. "She still wants to hit me across the face with my own car parts. She's just trying to humiliate me. Did Jackson set her up to it, to try and get me away from Lydia?"

Derek grabs Stiles' hand to shut him up as he continues to guess things about Erica. "None of those things are right," he says. "It's about you and me."

Stiles' sad looks turns very confused, and he glances down at the way Derek is holding onto him before looking back up at his eyes. "No way," he says. "There's no way that you _actually_ have a crush on m—"

Derek groans, letting go. "It's not that, either, okay? Shut up and listen."

Stiles giggles a little. "No, I get it. She's trying to get me to hang out with you, isn't she? You've got a crush on me. God, that's weird… Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm straight so—"

"Stiles, _shut up_."

Stiles mashes his lips together, though it's obvious that he's trying really hard not to laugh.

"Wolves have a heightened sense of smell," Derek begins, "and it's even stronger as a werewolf. There are certain smells, though, that only female werewolves can smell. While wolves don't have specific mates, werewolves apparently do, and she's smelled it between us since she met us. It's not complete, though, because you're a human. As a human, we're not actually mates yet. If you ever have to become a werewolf, though…" He trails off, trying to say it delicately.

"You're kidding, right?" Stiles says, still smiling a little.

Derek shakes his head. "The only reason that I can't smell it is because you're still human. Like I said, only females can smell it if it's not complete. When it is, though—as in, if you become more than human—we'll both be able to smell it. Peter also told me that, if it's a strong enough pull, the others will be able to smell it as well. We'll always feel the pull to be at least next to each other, but it probably pulls a lot farther than that. We'll get used to it eventually, so you'd be able to go to school and I could stay far away from it, but… Not at first. Like newlyweds, in a sense. There's the honeymoon stage, and then you're just in love."

Stiles swallows tightly, and Derek can hear his heartbeat beginning to race. "That's why I always feel calm around you," he says quietly, letting his hand drop back down to Spandex's back. She's looking up at him, now, obviously having heard the beats rise as well. "When you held my hand until I fell asleep, and the hug I gave you so you wouldn't be attacked. I was still angry, but it was…muted." He licks his lips and brings both his arms up to cross them over his chest. "Well, this just got supremely awkward."

Derek lifts both of his arms to rest on the arms of his pool chair. "Not yet," he says. "You're still human, so there's not actually a pull between us. It won't be awkward unless you have to be turned."

Stiles sighs and drags a hand down his face. "It's just kind of weird, you know? The fact that, if I am turned, we're going to _want_ to be together." He wrinkles his nose up. "I don't want to be a bottom!"

Their conversation was so serious, and Stiles' outburst was so unexpected, that… Derek does more than snort. His chest shakes a little, and he smiles, and…

"Wait, wait, are you laughing?"

Yeah. Derek is laughing. "No."

"You're totally laughing!"

He throws an arm over his face, shielding it from Stiles, as his chest continues to shake. "Shut. Up."

Stiles bursts into laughter as well. "I didn't even make a joke and you're seriously la—"

"I'm not laughing!"

Stiles punches lightly at his shoulder, and Derek drops his arm, grinning over at the teen. He's not laughing any_more_, but yeah, he just laughed. It wasn't even funny, it was just…

"You know, if I do have to get turned into a werewolf," Stiles says, swinging up into a standing position, "that Virgo-Virgo thing is totally going to come in hand. Paradise an' all." He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and winks before walking off, disappearing down the stairs. Spandex gets up and follows after him when they hear the sound of the door opening, and then Derek is sitting alone.

"Paradise?" he muses, staring up at the stars. "That doesn't sound so bad."

Just like that, a shooting star hurtles itself across the sky.

Derek lets out a deep breath. "I wish that I would stop hurting Stiles," he whispers. And he curls up on the chair and falls asleep, dreaming of nothing but laughter.

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES  
Four Days Later (Friday, June 7)…_

"Stiles, why did you add three frozen turkeys to the grocery list?"

Stiles looks up at his dad from where he's eating breakfast before school this Friday morning, and Isaac looks up from where he's sitting beside him, pieces of egg hanging out of his mouth.

"Um…" Stiles says, scrambling for something plausible. "I was, uh, going to, ah…" Oh! "Throw an end of year party! I mean, Lydia was going to, but she wanted me to help with food and stuff."

His dad gives him an odd look. "You want to bring _turkeys_ to a party for the end of your sophomore year?"

"She requested them!" Isaac chimes in. "It's kind of a formal thing, you know? Stiles will have to wear a plain shirt underneath his flannels and everything."

Stiles frowns, looking down at the All Time Low t-shirt peeking out above the top bottom of his plaid flannel. "There's nothing wrong with band t-shirts."

His dad rolls his eyes. "Fine, three turkeys. Need any cranberry sauce?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "No, Scott's bringing it."

The conversation is over after brief laughter, so Stiles and Isaac quick put their dishes away before ditching out of the house so Stiles can drive them to school. The turkeys are obviously for Spandex, but he can't exactly tell his dad that their old cat turned into an underwater panther with scales that even look like her old collar since it melded to her body when she changed. She's currently living in the forest lake when Stiles is at school, back where she belongs.

All of his friends did end up going to school on Tuesday, and Danny kept asking Jackson and Stiles where they were all day. He's dropped it now, but mostly because he can't also pester them about it at lacrosse practice since it's over.

"So, about your party idea…" Isaac says as he and Stiles sit down at the cafeteria table with everybody else. Stiles remembers the first day that they all sat next to each other. Jackson, Lydia, and Allison had all sat with Stiles and Scott before, but now they've added to their groups the drop-dead-sexy-and-currently-not-a-bitch Erica, quite and insightful Boyd who never used to have friends, and the sweet but sometimes very creepy kid named Isaac whose dad got killed by another student named Matt. If only Derek and Peter were still in school to sit with them as well... That'd be one hell of a group.

"A party?" Allison asks, sitting beside Scott. Yeah, not dating, sure. At least none of her relatives are still teaching here, or she'd be in deep shit.

Stiles nods. "Isaac and I were thinking about having a party for the end of the school year. You know, surviving through it like this. We can invite Danny and his boyfriend and whoever else, too, or it could just be us."

Lydia smiles brightly. "That sounds like a great idea! We can have it on the last day of school!"

"How about the day after?" Boyd says.

She frowns. "Why?"

"Because the last day of school is the full moon," Jackson says.

"Ah," she says, leaning against him a bit more. "The day after it, then. It'll be warm, so we can have a pool party!" She smiles brightly. "I'll start planning it now. I'll be great."

Stiles and Isaac exchange grins.

"What about your dad?" Scott asks Allison. "He'll know that all of us are going to show up at the party."

"I'll invite enough people that it won't matter," Lydia says, flitting a self-manicured hand. "And, if it still does, she can sneak out of her window like she usually does."

Erica frowns, taking a bite of Stiles' apple. "That's so far away, though… Can't we have it earlier? I mean, who knows what's going to be going on by then. Usually conflicts last for months, and with whatever these new beasts are killing all these animals, it could be ages too long. We should have it tomorrow instead."

Lydia gives her a sweet smile. Not some sickly sweet thing, either. Actually sweet. Stiles knows that Lydia wasn't very excited that there was suddenly another gorgeous girl at school, but apparently that sort of beauty commands respect, so here they are now. "You know, that is a much better idea. One of us could be dead by then." She smiles up at Jackson. "Come invite more people with me, won't you? The lacrosse team, first, and then anyone else I see fit to speak to."

He nods, and they stand. Lydia bids Allison farewell, and Jackson nods his own farewell.

"Do I even _own_ swim shorts?" Boyd muses to himself.

Isaac purses his lips down at Stiles. "We should have gotten some when we went shopping."

"I bet Jackson has some extra ones," Erica says. "I mean, if he's been with Lydia this long, he's bound to have a bunch for all the times he's gone over to her place. I bet you could borrow some from him."

"But what if we go swimming some other time?" Scott asks. "I mean, I've got some, but they might as well just buy a pair."

Boyd raises an eyebrow. "Buying things?" he asks, almost sarcastically. "Is that something that you rich people do?" Definitely sarcastic.

Erica leans over and kisses his cheek. Stiles has already forgiven her for lying to him about pretty much everything, but only because she bribed him with the most amazing back rub in the entire world. Anyway, Erica and Boyd are public now. "I'll make Derek get you a pair."

Boyd gives her a good natures eye roll. "Thanks."

**XxX**

Stiles cooked one of the turkeys and brought it to Spandex before actually showing up to the pool party on Saturday, and even though he's barely ten minutes late, the place is almost as crowded as Lydia's birthday party was. Everyone is in swimwear, splashing and tanning and all around excited that school is almost over. They still have to go through finals and the like, but why not relax beforehand?

Derek and Peter have yet to arrive, which isn't much of a surprise. Jackson and Lydia are being good little hosts, Erica and Boyd are playing a game with Danny and his boyfriend in the pool, and—

Stiles' entire brain stops working for a split second, because right then is when Derek and Peter decide to show up. Derek already has his shirt off, and Stiles has seen him shirtless before, but why does he have to be so fucking _in shape_? Stiles looks down at his own body and pouts out his bottom lip from where he's standing by himself, already having changed before getting here as well. He's so _pale_ and…well, he's got muscles and just enough of a six-pack that he's not exactly embarrassed, but picturing himself standing next to Derek, he's definitely embarrassed.

Derek sees him right away and comes over, pulling his sunglasses off. "I thought you were pale _with_ a shirt on," he says.

Stiles sticks his tongue out at him. "And I thought you were going to start being nice to people."

"One step at a time, Stilinski. Where's Isaac? I promised him I would let him ride on my shoulders so we could push Erica and Boyd over."

Stiles blinks and points over to where Isaac is currently flirting very badly with a girl who even Stiles can tell doesn't like him (he still can't figure that out; Isaac is attractive _and_ he's cool, so how is there anything wrong with him?), and Derek gives a nod before moving over to rescue him.

Peter steps by his side next, a t-shirt covering his own chest.

"What just happened?" Stiles asks, watching Derek swing Isaac onto his shoulders in the same moment that they leap into the pool.

"Stiles…" Peter sets a hand on his shoulder. "You've done a beautiful thing."

Stiles gives him a confused look. "Wait, he's _actually_ listening to me?"

Peter nods. "A little bird told me that you made him laugh."

Stiles blushes furiously and ducks his head. "He didn't tell you what I said to make him, did he?"

"Nope. Wanna fill me in?"

Stiles sighs, dropping his neck back to look at the sky. "It was about the whole mate thing. I just… He told me that Erica can smell it, right? So I complained about a bunch of stuff and then I yelled at him that I didn't want to be a bottom. That's when he started laughing."

Peter blinks at him before bursting into his own laughter. "You really said that to him? My god, you reek so strongly of virgin that I could get high off of it."

"Hey now," Stiles mutters, crossing his arms tightly. "You should be thanking me, not insulting me."

Peter grins and moves his hand to Stiles' other shoulder, pulling him closer. "I have an idea."

Stiles frowns at him. "For what?"

"Wanna see Derek drunk?"

Stiles grins in turn. "Hell yeah I wanna see Derek drunk."

"Good. Remember how Lydia invited the usual of us so stay over after the pool party is over? Her parents are letting her break out the wine because she likes us, but I happen to know that you like keeping a bottle of Jack in the back of your Jeep. Derek will one-hundred percent know the difference, but I know he'd rather have that than wine in the first place, so maybe we can try and convince him to have a whole bunch anyway. Downstairs, other wolves around… Well, spread it around and everyone will want to stay sober to see it. We'll have to make it nonchalant, though. Make sense?"

Stiles grins deeper. "The very best sense."

Stiles and Peter have to wait for Derek to get out of the pool before they can tell Erica, Isaac, and Boyd, and by that time everyone else knows as well. Stay sober and the reward is seeing Derek not be. Easy choice.

**XxX**

"Red or white?" Lydia asks, holding up two bottles of wine as Jackson is behind her with a box of glasses. They've got Galaxy Quest ready to go, because who doesn't love a cast with Buzz Lightyear, Snape, the Holes warden, Justin Hammer, Monk, Dwight, and even Chad from High School Musical?

"Ooh, I've got whisky in my Jeep!" Stiles says, jumping up. "Anyone?"

Derek, Peter, and Jackson both raise their hands, so Stiles skips outside to the car. Spandex showed up as soon as Stiles went out and whistled for her, and for once he's glad there's a creature around with super hearing.

"You ready for this, 'Dex?" Stiles ask as they walk back towards the stairs.

She purrs, her tail wrapping around a leg.

He grins. "Yeah, me too."

He and the three others instead fill their wine glasses with the whisky, and everyone else looks about twenty steps behind regal with frumpy clothes, stringy wet hair, and fancy glasses with wine.

Everyone is sitting a little differently than before, but not by tons. Lydia is still leaning against Jackson on the far couch, but now Isaac is curled up in their opposite corner with one of Lydia's stuffed teddy bears (okay, so maybe creepy isn't exactly the right word). Erica is against Boyd on the middle couch, and since that one seats four, Allison is up against Scott on the other side. Then there's the one closest to the door, with Stiles in the corner closest to it so Spandex can curl up at his feet. Peter is in the opposite corner than him and Derek is in the middle. Those two are sitting up with their glasses, but Stiles has already curled his legs onto the couch, with Spandex's tail wrapped up around his waist.

"Everyone ready?" Stiles asks.

Once their opinions have been voice he presses play, and even as he's setting the remote down (why he's been branded the King of the TV while here is unknown to him, but he's not complaining) he knocks his Jack back like a shot. He didn't pour that much—just exactly how much he knows he can handle and still be sober enough not to be tripping over himself and also able to give his complete attention to whatever Derek is going to turn into.

It happens slowly, when Stiles keeps sticking his tongue out at Derek as he leans over and refills his fancy wine glass with not-so-fancy Jack. Peter has had three glasses and still looks completely normal, so Derek has to have five before Stiles can even tell that his cheeks are a little pink in the light of the TV.

He starts to lean over to pour some more, but Derek waves him away. "I shouldn't have anymore," he says quietly as not to interrupt the movie. One more glass and he should be tipsy enough to let Stiles pour more. Hopefully, or else the contents of this bottle are not actually going to be enough to get him drunk.

"Nonsense," Stiles replies, batting his hands away and pouring it anyway. "Look around. You're literally the only one who _wants_ to get drunk. I can smell it on you and my nose is human."

"He's right," Scott says nonchalantly. "We'll be fine."

"Yeah, we've got a cat monster in your place!" Allison chimes.

Derek shakes his head, holding the glass out to Stiles. "I'm good."

Stiles levels him with a glare. "Derek, drink the fucking whisky."

The alpha gives him a red eyed glare before sighing and bringing his arm back in front of his own body. "Fine, but this is the last one. Pour me another and I'll give it to Spandex."

Stiles grins. "Aw, you're calling her by her name. How sweet."

Derek rolls his eyes and knocks the glass back like a pro, to which Peter gives Stiles a very quick and subtle thumbs-up.

Stiles looks around at everyone else watching Derek intently and grabs the remote to pause the movie. "Who wants to hear a joke?" he asks innocently.

"Ooh, me!" Isaac says, swinging his legs out of Jackson and Lydia's laps to face Stiles better.

He grins. "What did the alien say to the plant?"

Everyone is silent for a moment, actually trying to figure it out. "We don't know," Boyd says at length. "What?"

Everyone grins at Derek even though they don't know the punch line. "Take me to your _weeder_."

Derek has a straight face for about a second before a smile breaks out across his face. "That's funny. That's really funny." He elbows Peter. "Geddit, Pete?"

Peter whoops and throws his arms around his nephew. "You're beautiful when you're happy," he says. Then, leaning away: "No homo."

Stiles grabs Derek's glass and refills it. "Here, Derek. Just one more, I promise.

Just as Stiles planned, Derek knocks t back like all the others. Stiles starts the movie up again, trying to make the seventh glass a refill just as subtle and fun as the others. Something about Derek changes before he can get there, though, and he gives an unpleasant noise that's quiet enough that only Stiles and Peter hear it.

"Whoa, can werewolves puke?" Stiles whiskers to Peter.

"Yeah, but he shouldn't be there yet." He sits up straight from how he's been slumping. "Want some air, kid?"

"Ugh, yeah," Derek says, standing. He doesn't stumble at all, but he's massaging a temple pretty hard. "Just keep it playing, I've seen it before." He disappears out of the door to the outside stairs.

Everyone is giving Peter a quizzical look, but the oldest werewolf just shrugs, so Stiles stands up to go after him, Spandex following after since her tail is still rapped around his waist. It's his Jack, after all. He's going to feel really bad if Derek ends up sick.

"You alright?" he asks, sitting down on the pool chair nearest to Derek's.

"Yeah," he says, no longer rubbing his head. "It's just bug—I mean, is been a while since I've drank that mush."

Stiles smiles a little at the slurring. "Dude, you practically finished the entire bottle. It'll be out in, like, two more glasses, and by then you'd be drunk off your ass. Any human would probably be dead."

Derek looks over at him with a confused look. "Is that… Is that what you were tryin' to get me tuh do? Get drunk?"

Stiles gives a guilty look. Busted. "It was Peter's idea."

But Derek just laughs. "He's ben tryin' to get me drunk for the lass year, and you do it your firs try?"

Stiles shrugs. "You're not quite drunk yet, but you've definitely got a slur. It's kinda cute."

He shakes his head. "I am, but I haven't finished that bottle yet, so not as mush as I could be."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Do you _want_ to finish the bottle?"

"Ugh, no."

Stiles grins. "Wanna finish it anyway?"

Derek breathes a laugh. "Yeah."

Stiles stands up and looks down at Spandex. "Let go for ten seconds." He hurries back inside and snatches up the bottle, grinning at the others. "Don't come up quite yet," he says. "Wait, like, five minutes or so."

And then he's going back up, taking his own swig as he drops down on his previous pool chair and then holding it out to Derek. "All yours, daddio."

Derek gives him a dark look before tipping the bottle up to his lips and literally chugging all of it. "Before it hits me," he says, setting the bottle down and out of the way, "I want to let you know that I will kill anyone who takes pictures."

Stiles grins. "Not me, then. Mine broke after the lake, remember?"

Derek nods before… Oh god, he giggled. Derek Hale just giggled.

"Yuh know," he says, "you can get a normal dog to talk if you juss ask the right quesh-qwest—" He giggles again. "Qweshtion."

Stiles grins, reaching forward to push his fingers through Derek's hair. He's always wanted to do that. "And what do you have to ask, Derek?" he asks, humoring him.

He grins widely, and Stiles can't help but notice how perfect his teeth are. Seriously, the guy is perfect. It's not even fair. "You have tuh ask it what trees are made out of, an' then it'll—it'll anser with…" His grin widens. "Bark!" He bursts into laughter at his own joke a split second before Stiles even has a chance to get it, and he does chuckle, but mostly because Derek's drunk laugh is adorable. It's like a cross between a giggle and an embarrassing yet completely shameless snorting, hiccupping mess.

"Your turn, your turn," the werewolf wheezes. "You tell a joke."

Stiles quick racks his brain for one. "What did one banana say to the other banana?"

"I—I don' know. What?"

"I find you a-_peeling_!"

Derek laughs so hard that he leans forward and rests his forehead against Stiles' shoulder, his hands gripping Stiles' thighs.

Stiles grins, reaching his hands up to play through Derek's hair. It's kind of hard in the front from the gel he uses, but the back is soft. Is that…lavender? Does the mighty Derek Hale use _lavender_ shampoo?

"Oh my god, it totally worked!" Erica says as she walks towards them. Everyone else is straggling behind her, ready to see Derek actually laugh for once.

"Yup," Stiles says, continuing to play with Derek's hair. The alpha just keeps breathing evenly, his breath hot on Stiles' neck. The whole mate thing runs through his mind, but he trips it right away.

Jackson tells the fist joke, and Derek practically howls with laughter against Stiles' shoulder. Spandex is very on edge with all of the wolves so close to her, but she'll live.

"I vote we dance!" Lydia says brightly.

Peter gives a wide-eyed look. "Um, how about we talk about our feelings instead—"

But it's too late. She's already got her phone out and onto songs for any modern club, and Derek lifts his had from Stiles' shoulder with an all new hunger in his eyes. "Erica," he says. "Do you wanna dance?"

Erica gives a conflicted look and looks up at Boyd. "He's only asking because he's drunk."

Boyd actually grins. "And it's totally worth it. Go 'head, I'll take pictures."

Isaac and Peter take Derek's old pool chair the moment he and Erica are in the "crowd" of Scott with Allison and Jackson with Lydia.

"You are _brilliant_," Peter says, nudging at Stiles' shoulder with his hand as Stiles sits sideways so Boyd can sit beside him. "I take back everything about you being annoying for the night because it's beautiful to see him laugh again."

Isaac nods. "That _is_ great, but I gotta says, we really need some more girls in our circle of friends."

Stiles nods wholeheartedly, having to trip the mate idea as it tries to jog through his mind again. "Three of them, because you"—he looks at Peter—"already have Melissa, and it just sucks for you that she doesn't run around with us at night."

Peter snorts. "Good thing, too. I'd hate to put her in danger like that."

Stiles smiles He'll have to tell Scott that he said that.

Isaac sighs. "Stiles, I'll dance with you if you promise not to tell anyone again."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Fine."

Even Boyd laughs as they walk away. Stiles and Isaac, just as before, move over by where Derek and Erica are.

"I take it back about you being a lightweight," Isaac says over his shoulder. "I saw you knock back your shot like it was lemonade. Very impressive."

Stiles chuckles. "I try."

Just as before, though, they both have to stop to stare at Derek and Erica with wide eyes. His hands and his hips and his eyes staring intently at Stiles…

This time, though, it's all different. Erica isn't as into it because she's with Boyd now, Derek is even more into it because he's not angry, and instead of his eyes being blood red and ready to kill Stiles they're his normal green with pupils blown so wide that Stiles would probably think he was on drugs.

Derek leans down to Erica's ear and whispers something, and Isaac whispers to Stiles as well: "Think you're going to get cut in half again?"

"In the morning?" Stiles says. "Definitely."

Erica gives Derek a stern look after he stops speaking. "No, you're drunk," Stiles hears her say in a normal tone.

He whispers something again.

She sighs. "I'll ask him." With that she takes a few steps over to Stiles and Isaac. "Derek wants to dance with you," she says to Stiles. "Something about how he can actually smell the mate thing. It must be more powerful since he's not using his senses for anything else."

Stiles purses his lips. "Um…I mean, I could, but what's going to happen after? I can cuddle during Galaxy Quest until he falls asleep, but there's no way I'm going to—"

"No, I won't let it get that far. I'll watch you guys, alright?"

Stiles nods. "Okay, I can do it then. Only 'cause he's drunk, though. He's cute when he's drunk."

Isaac frowns. "What about me? I don't have anyone to dance with now."

Erica gives him exasperated look. "Go ask Peter."

He actually looks like he's contemplating the idea, but Stiles doesn't get to see the outcome, because Derek is suddenly pulling him over to where he and Erica were.

"I like your hair," Derek murmurs, rubbing his nose lightly against where Stiles restyled it after swimming.

"Um, thanks," he says, turning around in his arms. What song is this? In the Dark by Dev? It's a slow dancing song…and sexy. Obviously this would be the one to come on for Stiles and Derek. He can see Spandex staring at him from where she's still lying by the chairs, her tail wrapped lightly around Peter's arm as he pets her slowly.

Stiles isn't the most amazing dancer, but he does have to admit that he's better when he's in the "girl's" position (the sub? Whatever). Derek's hands rest against Stiles' hips, and his fingertips dig just barely into his skin, two of them on each side playing against bare skin under his shirt. He's not that much taller than Stiles, but he still has to bend his knees more, though it's not something that Stiles can help. He can't help the way that Derek's breath is washing hot over his neck again, somehow even closer than before. The way that Derek's hips follow Stiles' own hip movements, slow and perfect and—

Fuck, is that…? Yup.

Stiles very ungracefully turns around Derek's arms, facing him while dancing instead. Derek falters for only a split second since it probably surprises his drunk self, but he doesn't protest, resting his hands on Stiles' hips again as he grinds against his leg. Anything is better than Derek Hale's hard-on against his ass. Maybe this drunk thing wasn't such a good idea after all.

Isaac comes to rescue him the moment that two songs have gone by, whispering something about Erica before bumping him to the side and taking his place. Derek definitely notices, and the way his eyebrows furrow a little means he doesn't like the situation near as much as Stiles. He doesn't give the wolf enough time to correct it, though, as Stiles moves quickly to the stairs. He whistles when he gets to them, and Spandex is there by the time he gets to the bottom of the stairs, so they both go inside and straight to the back corner they were in the last time they were over.

Stiles drops down and lets Spandex curl herself around him, her tail wrapping around his waist again.

"I'm fine," he whispers to her as she gives a concerned purr. "It's fine, I just got tired, is all." He swallows tightly. "And really, really hard." He frowns down at his pants. Obviously he turned himself on with pressure against a leg, but still. It _is_ awkward now, even if Stiles _is_ still human. It was worse tonight since Derek was drunk, though. Sure, Stiles wouldn't have exactly welcomed a sober Derek grinding against him, but it would have been better knowing that Derek only wanted him be_cause_ he was drunk.

He frowns. Actually, he should be twice as flattered. As a werewolf, Derek's natural instincts are more prominent, which means that the want to dance (or whatever else…) with Stiles was more than just a drunken function. Then again, though, maybe not, because it's probably just the need to be Stiles' mate popping out.

So, again, Stiles is left being annoyed with himself for dancing with drunk Derek. The guy might hate himself in the morning, but right now… Well, right now he's dancing with Isaac, so he's probably just really turned on.

Stiles sighs. The curse of appreciating the male anatomy but not wanting to lick its chest is the fact that he can stare wide-eyed at Derek's sculpted chest but then look down at his own body and contemplate getting a tan. The rate things are going, he'll be a werewolf soon, and then where will he be? On bottom, that's where.

He groans, slouching into a more comfortable sleeping position against Spandex. He's going to have to get Peter to give him "the mate talk." It'll be…fun.

* * *

End chapter notes: Obviously that chapter was mostly just for shits, giggles, and the whole Sterek ship. No conflict with the outside monsters, yay! I did think of what they were going to be, by the way, so I got the rest of my plot all ready :) Anyway! End of chapter 7. Hopefully I did the whole drunk Derek thing alright :P Spandex has done her part and accepted the werewolves enough to quit protecting Stiles from them, so now she can give her full attention to protecting him from the other beasts! Also I think I'm going to let Lydia know that she's a banshee in this next chapter (obviously it wasn't the last one!), because of course that has to come into some importance later.

Also, there was one fanart reference in this chapter.  
1. Derek's first laugh: _He's Not Laughing_ by _punch-buggy_

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	8. The Not-So Dreaded Triple Date

**8: The Not-So Dreaded Triple Date**

_DEREK  
Sunday, June 9…_

Derek wakes up the next morning with a splitting headache, and for a split second he wonders if werewolves can _get_ headaches, but then he remembers drinking almost an entire bottle of Jack by himself, and…

"Fuck," he breathes, dragging a hand down his face. He laughed at jokes and he danced like a whore with Erica, Isaac, _and_ Stiles. "Fuck," he says again, looking around. Everyone is still passed out on the couches, and that surprises him. He was the only drunk one, so shouldn't he be the last one to wake up? Well, no, because he came down here and passed out before anyone else…

He's sprawled across the couch closest to the door outside, with Isaac draped over him and Peter in the corner with both pairs of their feet in his lap. The others are all spread out on the other two couches, and Derek cranes his neck to see Stiles curled up so tightly with his pet that he can barely see the teen at all.

Isaac groans a little against him, and his eyes open up. He looks tired, grumpy, and sore. "Hi," he mutters, pushing up so he can stretch.

Derek raises an eyebrow. "Morning?" he whispers.

"You're really cute drunk," he says, "but you cuddle really hard. You practically broke one of my ribs while you were sleeping."

Derek sighs, swinging his legs out from under Isaac before he settles back down. "Sorry."

"I got pictures," Boyd whispers from where he's holding Erica, both of them now awake. "Wanna see them?"

Derek cringes, the warning he gave Stiles obviously having been ignored. "No. Delete them."

Erica grins. "You wish. If I had a Facebook they would go all _over_ it."

"I have a Facebook," Peter says, stretching his legs out and accidentally knocking Isaac over so his face slams into Derek's lap. "Oops, sorry."

Derek frowns, looking around. "Is _anyone_ actually asleep?"

"We are," Jackson growls, eyes still shut. "Shut up."

Those that actually are awake (Derek, Peter, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica) make their way up the stairs on the inside of the house, and then take turns using the bathroom (since they actually know where it is now) before moving as silent as they can to the kitchen.

"Morning!" Mrs. Martin says with a warm smile. "How was your night?" She holds up the empty bottle of Jack. They must have left it out at the pool last night.

Derek groans a little, sitting down at the kitchen table. "The worst I have ever had."

Peter chuckles. "He drank most of it by himself," he says, taking it from her. "Do you guys recycle?"

She shakes her head. "Tried once, but we kept forgetting. Hungry?"

"Starving," Isaac says, giving her a dazzling smile. He's attractive and fun, but he can't flirt for shit. Derek will have to teach him one of these days.

"Need any help?" Erica asks, giving her own smile.

Mrs. Martin smiles in return. "No, you just take a seat at the table and I'll whip up some eggs and bacon. Are the others still sleeping?"

"Yeah," a new voice says, and everyone looks over to Stiles walking in, rubbing his eyes. He's just in sweats, but they're hanging lower than his swim trunks were, and Derek can actually tell that he got a bit of a tan. Nothing super noticeable, but noticeable enough. "Did you know that your daughter snores?"

She chuckles warmly. "I did, yes. She always does after a night of drinking. I heard your friend nearly drank the entire bottle of whisky by himself."

Stiles raises an eyebrow, but then he makes eye contact with Derek and nods. "Right, right. He's probably regretting it now, but…" He shrugs. "Not my problem." He moves to the kitchen table and sits in the chair as far away from Derek as he can. "Sorry about that," he mouths.

Derek shoots him a red-eyed glare before looking away. He's going to kill him.

"Don't do that, it was my idea," Peter says, sitting down beside Stiles.

Erica sits on his other side. "Where's Spandex?" she whispers.

"Sleeping in my Jeep," he whispers back.

Everyone else slowly makes their way up the stairs as Mrs. Martin is cooking breakfast, yawning and rubbing their eyes and all around looking like a bunch of teenagers after a sleepover involving alcohol. They must have had some more wine after Derek passed out—especially Lydia, because she reeks of it.

As Derek is eating his plate of eggs and bacon, Mrs. Martin swings around and sets a bowl of cereal and a glass of something blue in front of both him and Lydia.

"What's this?" he asks.

"Shh," Lydia says, rubbing at her temples. "Fruity Pebbles and Gatorade," she whispers. "It's her hangover remedy. Eat, drink, and be merry before I rip out your very loud vocal cords."

Derek gives it a weird look, not really liking its smell. He notices Stiles roll his eyes at him, though, so he rolls his as well before just eating it. His headache was already gone thanks to his werewolf healing, but he might as well humor such a nice family. He's not really sure why Lydia's mom is okay with her drinking, having sex, and hanging out with men out of high school, but he's not really going to complain about it. It's better sleeping on a couch than some old mattress in a cold warehouse and without a blanket anyway.

"Well, we should probably get going," Peter says when he and Derek are finished, stretching out. "Derek and I have things to do. Got to make a living somehow." Not really.

Everyone bids them farewell, and they thank their host before leaving out the front door to get to their cars.

"So, do you remember everything that happened last night?" Peter asks nonchalantly.

Derek gives him a dark look. "Yes."

"And I assume you're never going to do it again?"

"Never."

He nods, leaning against the front door of Derek's car so he can't go anywhere yet. "You were pretty disappointed when Isaac took Stiles' place."

Derek's eyes glow red. "What are you getting at, Peter?"

"Do you believe Erica now or not?"

"I do, but it makes no differences. Stiles is human and I'm never getting drunk again."

"You smelt it, didn't you? Erica said that you told her that you did, since you weren't focusing your senses on the other things around you. You could do it again, I bet, if you could completely ignore everything but him."

Derek's eyes fade and he just gives a confused look. "Are _you_ trying to get us together now, too?"

His uncle shrugs. "I just don't want anybody to get hurt. I did plenty of that before I died, but now I understand that it's not my place. I got my revenge. I'm happy. But you're not, and I want you to be."

"You think _Stiles_ is going to make me happy?"

"He might if you just let him."

"I _have_ let him," he growls. "Multiple times, thanks. I don't want to hurt the kid anymore, but if I hurt him last night, it wasn't entirely my fault that _he_ got me drunk."

"It was actually _my_ idea to have it done, but yes, he did do most of it."

"I don't want him, Peter," he says. "I don't want anyone. They'll just get in my way—not by holding me back, either. They'll distract me, and then we'll _both_ be dead. How would you like that? Your nephew and favorite little human ripped in half by the new monsters that are coming? Maybe Isaac can record our screams like he recorded what Stiles said abo—" He cuts off, a new scent coming up to his nose. He snaps his head over to the side, and there's Stiles by his Jeep, staring at both of them.

"Isaac recorded that?" Stiles asks in a whisper. "Is that why you slammed me against the tree? Because he showed it to you?"

Derek swallows tightly. "He was doing it to help," he says.

"Oh, so _he_ gets your defense when he's trying to help?" he says, voice, heartbeat, and temper rising. "You got pissed off at me for doing that and I wasn't even doing that!" He swings the door of his Jeep open and tosses the empty bottle of whisky in. "Next time you want to scare me so bad that Spandex feels like he has to protect me, make sure I'm not the only one you're scaring."

Peter flits off as soon as Derek moves towards the teen. "Stiles, wait."

"Wait for _what_?" he snarls, slamming the door. Spandex raises her head inside, and somehow there's concern in her slitted eyes. "Wait for me to become a werewolf? It's not going to happen unless my life depends on it, so why is this such a big deal? I've got an underwater panther, a banshee, a champion arrow shooter, a town sheriff, and _seven_ werewolves to protect me, so I really doubt it's going to happen anytime soon. Yes I got you drunk last night, yes I found your soft spot, and _yes_ I danced with you because you wanted me to. I'm straight and I don't want to bottom, but yes, I got a hard-on while pressing my dick against your leg. What guy _wouldn't_? Just because I did, though, and just because you were able to smell out the mate thing that Erica is talking about because you were drunk… That doesn't mean I want it."

He starts to walk away, but Derek grabs his hand. "Stiles, _wait_. Our friendship is sketchy enough as it is; you shouldn't be letting this get in the way of it. If that's the way you feel about it, that it's never going to happen, then _treat it_ that way. Ignore it. What do you think I've been trying to do? You did get me drunk, though, and I never would have done those things while sober. I would have let everyone else get drunk and then watched over them like a good alpha. And that smell? Literally the best thing I have ever smelled in my life. And you know what? I never want to smell it again. I don't _want_ you to become a werewolf. Sure, you'll be able to protect yourself, but it'll mean that everything around us and the rest of the pack is going to hell and I don't want that."

Stiles yanks his hand away from Derek's, heartbeat angry and…hurt? "Oh, so now I'm not even good enough? A feeling that you've got in every single fucking bone in your body and you want to _ignore_ it?"

Derek's eyebrows furrow in a confused look. "Are you… Why does that offend you? I thought you _wanted_ to ignore it!"

Stiles groans. "I do, but I know that we _can't_. It's there, alright? Obviously I don't feel it because I'm human, but Erica can smell it, and you can smell it too when you're not focusing on anything else. We can't just ignore something that's _there_, Derek."

"What do you even mean by that? You want to embrace it or something? Want me to hold your hand and dance with you sober and—"

Stiles cuts him off with frantic hand waves. "No, I don't want you to do any of those things. I can't even _picture_ you holding someone's hand, let alone mine. I just want to understand it. Apparently we've literally been made for each other, and I'd like to know something about how it even works before I let my fucking soul mate hold my hand." He gives an aggravated sigh and puts his hands on his hips. "And you get mad at _me_ when I don't listen."

Derek growls a groan, leaning against Stiles' Jeep. "You are really annoying, you know that?"

"At least I can laugh when I'm sober!"

He glares at the teen. "Fine, what do you want to do about it? Go talk to Peter? He already told me everything, so I could just tell it to you."

"Yeah, fine, but not right now. I told Scott I was just putting the bottle away since you left it inside."

"_Fine_, I'll sneak into your room tonight."

"No, I'm not gonna be in there. Lydia invited Scott, Jackson, Lydia, and I to go bowling tonight. It was supposed to be a double date, but Allison got them to invite me too."

"You want me to come _bowling_ with you?"

"No, I want you to come and sit in a corner so _we_ can bowl and _you_ can tell me what the fuck I'm supposed to do if I have to become your mate."

"What if I _want_ to bowl?"

"You _do_ want to?"

He grits his teeth. "I might."

"Fine, then fucking bowl with us. It'll be a triple fucking date."

Stiles gets very colorful when he's angry. "_Fine_. What time?"

He crosses his arms angrily. "We're supposed to be there at eight."

Derek glares "I'll pick you up at seven-thirty then. Don't make we wait."

"Don't make _me_ wait," he snaps.

And with that, he spins around and stalks back towards the house. Peter shows up at Derek's side again, opening up the front door to reach back and pet Spandex. She doesn't look very happy at Derek.

Derek frowns at Peter. "What just happened?"

Peter purses his lips, watching Stiles disappear into the house. "I think you just got asked out on a date."

Derek nods. "I think I just got asked out on a date," he repeats.

Peter grins and pats his back. "Nice going."

Derek sighs, pushing off of Stiles' Jeep to get to his Camaro. "I'm going to kill him."

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES…_

Stiles gets back to his own house by noon, everyone else who knows where else. He's just got Spandex purring as he pets her while he cooks another one of the turkeys. She liked the last one enough to bring the carcass with her when she was done with it.

Scott and the others are totally fine with Derek showing up with them, but Stiles' hands won't stop shaking. He didn't even realize what he had done until after he had done it, and now he feels like an idiot.

The turkey is going to take forever to cook, so maybe he'll go take a shower…

Just as he's about halfway up the stairs, somebody knocks at the door. Stiles sighs, clomping back down. He swings the door open to three woman, all with very long, platinum blonde hair. The one in the front is wearing a long, perfectly white dress, and the two beside her are in grey-ish silver ones.

"Um… Can I help you?" he asks.

They all give him warm smiles. "I am Aibell," the one in white says, "and these are my sisters, Zuri and Krii. Do you have a moment to talk about Jesus Christ?"

Stiles tries really hard not to groan. "I'm really sorry, but I was actually just going to shower. I've got the water running to warm up and everything."

The two in the back actually look angry, but Aibell turns and reassures them that it's alright. "That's perfectly alright, young man. May we just have your name so that we may pray for you?"

Stiles purses his lips. "Yeah, sure, whatever. It's Stiles."

They nod in thanks. "Would you like a pamphlet?"

"Ah, no thanks, we've got some upstairs." A total lie, but he knows that if you take the pamphlet that they'll come back. "Thanks, though."

After awkward goodbyes he shuts the door, and he buzzes his lips before clomping back up the stairs. He gathers up the clothes he'll being wearing at bowling tonight and throws them on the bathroom floor before stripping for the shower, 'cause yeah he needs one, but no the water is not yet running. It only takes a few seconds to warm up.

"Was this a bad idea?" Stiles asks Spandex asks he steps into the shower.

Obviously the cat creature can't understand him, but she does like the spray of the water, so she sticks her tail in and flicks it around. She's already tried and failed to fit into the entire thing, and Stiles is glad that she remembers that.

"Some help you are," he mutters, getting a handful of the water and leaning out to pour it over her head. At least she doesn't drink from the toilet. "I hope _he_ doesn't see it as a date. Danny is going to make fun of me for actually ending up gay when I kept telling him I wasn't and was just curious about stuff."

He sighs when Spandex doesn't answer. Maybe talking werewolves are annoying, but how about swimming cats? They'd probably be worse, actually.

When Stiles is done showering, he has to get dressed. He doesn't really like getting dressed. He likes walking around in boxers and eating chips and reading about human torture devices from the middle ages. So the fact that he actually has to make himself look presentable to the public is not on his list of fun things to do. He does it anyway, though, because goin' it Risky Business style is not exactly smiled upon in every day society.

"Well, at least I got my book back." He grabs up the bestiary and flops onto his bed with the book and his laptop, ready to read up on banshees. He might as well actually know everything about _all_ of the monsters that he's friends with, right? Maybe he should tell Lydia about that tonight. Maybe he should leave it to Peter, though… Yeah, to Peter.

**XxX**

Obviously Stiles completely loses track of time, so he's not at all surprised when Derek scares the life out of him by sneaking silently into the window. At least he called his dad to tell him where he'd be tonight be_fore_ he got too sucked into his work. The sheriff gets back at nine tonight.

"I told you not to make me wait," the alpha says, leaning against the wall by the window. He's in his usual attire, but somehow his leather jacket looks…shinier.

"Sorry, sorry," Stiles says, moving quickly around to put shoes on and grab his wallet. "I got distracted.

"What with this time?"

"Banshees. Did you know that the legends only saw them as spirits without physical bodies? Always pale, too, with white or grey clothes and…" He frowns, pausing in the tying of his shoelace. That matches the description of the ladies that came to his door. There were some names in his researched, so maybe… Well, he can't remember the three ladies names, so oh well.

"What is it?" Derek asks, obviously not actually angry about being kept waiting. That's new.

Stiles shakes his head. "Nothing, I'm just thinking too hard." He stands up. "Alright, ready!"

Derek closes the window before they go downstairs to take the front door, and Stiles is very glad that he set a timer for the turkey. Spandex is currently chowing on it in the back yard, so Stiles quick goes out there to get her to finish it in the forest.

"That's so weird," he says as he swings into the passenger seat of Derek's Camaro.

"Now what?" the alpha asks, staring it up and speeding away.

"Cats hardly ever listen to people. She never did to me before, either, and only came if she was going to get food. I'm glad this is what she turned into, if it had to be anything. Terrifying at first and I can't exactly take her for a walk, but it's nice."

Derek simply hums a reply, driving along at the speed limit. Nothing like Peter. Probably good, too, because with their luck they'd be pulled over by Stiles' dad, and wouldn't it be fun to explain why his son was going on a not-triple date with once alleged killer Derek Hale? No. No, it would not.

"So…about mates," Stiles says, staring out of his window.

Derek hums again. "It's not that complicated, really. Peter is probably better at explaining it than I, but that doesn't matter."

Stiles listens intently as Derek explains it, talking about pulls and scents and the like.

"So," he says as they get out of the car once they're parked. "Even as a human, I'm not technically your mate until we have sex?"

Derek nods. "Yes, but if you are human, we still won't feel the pulls and I'll still only be able to smell it if I focus every sense on it—like when I was drunk. We're just partners if you're human, but _true_ mates if you're turned. That's when we'll both feel the pull."

"Okay, but what if I don't _want_ to feel the pull? The want for you, specifically. What if it feels, like, fake because we both know we're only together because we have to be?"

Derek purses his lips. "Then that sucks for us. We can't make the pulls go away. We just have to live with it. That much time together would probably just force us to get used to each other and actually make it real anyway."

Stiles nods. "That's true. What about if—"

"Hey, there they are!" Scott says loudly as Stiles and Derek walk into the bowling building. He and the other three are already at a lane.

Stiles and Derek gives each other looks to acknowledge that their conversation is on hold before getting shoes, picking a bowling ball, and then sitting down with the others.

"Glad you could make it," Allison says, smiling at Derek.

He gives her a gruff look. "Thanks."

Stiles elbows him. "Try not to be a sourwolf _all_ night, okay?"

The alpha rolls his eyes. "Are we doing teams?" he asks the others.

"We can only have two teams here," Lydia says. "We can only have teams if one couple is willing to split up."

Stiles sighs. "We're not a couple," he mutters. Yeah, Danny is never going to let him live this down.

Derek scuffs at his hair. "We'll split," he says. "Stiles, you go with Scott and Allison."

Stiles grins. "Good thing you're good at this now, Scott."

His best friend winks. "What do you mean? I've always been good at this."

He rolls his eyes as Lydia gets up to type in the information, just putting the first letter of names in but for Stiles, who gets to be "SS". It's kind of awkward talking about mates when their four friends keep looking at them between turns, but it's even worse when they have to pause in the middle of a sentence to go roll for their turn. Finally, on Stiles' fifth roll (they're playing multiple games, and Stiles hasn't gotten a single strike yet, but Jackson hasn't either, so it's fair enough since the other four are really good at this game—and Derek looks hilarious in bowling shoes), Stiles groans and declares that he and Derek are just going to follow each other back and forth. Stiles doesn't care if he's distracted because he already sucks, and it doesn't matter if Derek is distracted because he'll get a strike anyway.

"So if I stay human," Stiles says as Derek is walking back from his strike, "then this whole thing is never even going to matter?"

Derek nods. "Right."

"But if I have to turn, then we'll be forced to shack up?"

Derek raises an eyebrow at the word choice, but he nods again.

"What if I get turned into something else? Will we still feel the pulls?"

Derek frowns. "I don't know."

"Maybe we should call Peter, then, 'cause that seems important to know."

Derek nods again. "Yes, but neither you nor I actually have a cell phone right now."

"Nope," Stiles says, digging into his pocket. "They gave me a new one since water damage is on the list for that stuff. I lost all my contacts, though."

"Contacts?" Lydia asks. "I can fill them."

Stiles grins. "Alright, just let us make a call first." He hands the phone to Derek. "I hope you have his number memorized."

Derek dials as he and Stiles walk up so Stiles can take his turn. "Hey, it's Derek and Stiles," he says, putting the phone on speaker. "We have a question about mates."

"Ooh," Peter says with a light chuckle. "Still on your not-so dreaded triple date, then?"

Stiles snorts and quick rolls his bowling ball, honestly not even watching where it ends up going.

"Yes," Derek says with an eye roll. "Are you still with Melissa?"

"I am, ye—"

"Stiles, look!" Allison says happily, and he and Derek look up from the phone to see every last pin knocked over.

"How did _that_ happen?" Stiles asks.

Scott grins at Allison. "I've got a pretty good idea."

Stiles doesn't care enough to question it, so he just grabs his phone from Derek and goes to sit back down. "What happens to the pull between us if I get turned into something else? Like…I don't know, a vampire."

Peter hums in thought. "There aren't really vampires in California since they're more into the cold, but as an example, I think it'll be the same as when you're human. Certain things, though, might turn the pull into a shove. Humans can't turn into the same thing as Spandex, but I really doubt you're going to want to be around each other when you can't stand each other's smell. Not at first, anyway. We've all gotten mostly used to Spandex and she to us, so now we're fine being around her. I'm not exactly sure since I haven't heard much about mates of different species unless one of them is human, but that sounds about right."

Stiles and Derek nod even though Peter can't see them, both standing so Derek can take his turn.

"Thanks," Stiles says.

"Of course. Anything else?"

"Uh, yeah." He turns the phone off speaker and holds it to his ear. "Do you want to be the one to tell our little banshee what she is? I know you guys have some weird connection to each other."

"Even without it, I should tell her because I know most about it."

"I don't know, I just spent the last two hours reading about them." They sit after Derek's perfect strike. "I don't really want to be the one to tell her, though."

"Then why are you fighting me for it?"

Derek leans down so that his face is on the other side of the phone. "We could all tell her together. We haven't had a meeting in a while"

"Do we really need one?" Stiles asks. "I'm tired."

Derek rolls his eyes. "I doubt her mom want us over again, so yes, we'll meet at the warehouse."

Peter hums. "Alright, call me when you're done bowling."

"Will do." Stiles hangs up before handing his phone to Lydia, who takes it with a bright smile. "Hey, Scott."

He rolls his first roll of two before turning around. "Huh?"

"Do you think I'll ever have to get turned into a werewolf?"

Jackson gives an exaggerated eye roll. "Are you guys _still_ talking about that?"

They ignore him.

"I don't know," Scott says as he walks back from the second and Stiles stands to go up. Derek stays put since they're all talking together now. "You've lasted this long."

"Nothing has ever been after me specifically, though. What happens if I get injured?"

"We'll probably let you turn if you survive it," Derek says. "It doesn't happen in seconds, though. If you're injured badly enough, the bite's not going to save you. The only bite that does really is from a vampire unless it sucks you dry, and also from another thing that you can't get turned into anything by."

Stiles frowns, both at his terrible roll (straight into the gutter) and the statement. "What sort of thing?" he asks, waiting for his ball to come back so he can have his second roll.

"There's this thing called a hidebehind, called that because of its ability to quickly make itself as skinny as it wants until it's thin enough to hide behind whatever it's closest to. It usually just kills you, but it does have the ability to heal you with its bite if it so chooses. Like I said, nothing happens to you if you are bit, which is very rare among mythical creat—oh my god, don't you dare roll like that."

Stiles frowns, turning around from where he's about to take his second roll. "Huh?"

"You are literally in the worst form I have ever seen," he says, moving towards him.

Stiles frowns. "You actually know how to bowl instead of just instincts?"

"You really think it's instincts?" Jackson asks. "I've only gotten two strikes the entire game and it's almost over."

Stiles frowns deeper. He's right. "How did _you_ get good, then?" he asks Scott.

His best friend smirks. "Allison gave me something to think about."

"Never mind Scott's distraction," Derek says, grabbing Stiles' chin to force him to look back at him. "Do what I do."

Stiles tries really hard to mimic exactly how Derek stands a rolls the invisible ball, but he still only gets seven down.

"Better," the alpha says, scuffing Stiles' hair again. "Practice that and you'll be better than Jackson."

"Can't you just give me something to distract me like Allison gave Scott?"

Derek raises an eyebrow was they sit down. "I guarantee that you don't want a distraction similar to Scott's and also involves me."

Stiles frowns at Scott. "Why not?"

Scott smirks at his girlfriend (they are definitely dating again; if the other Argent's find out she's doomed). "Can we tell them?"

She grins at him before turning it to Stiles. "I told him to think about me naked."

Stiles' eyes widen, and yeah, Derek's naked body totally flashes through his mind. "Oh," he says. "Yeah, I'll just stick with learning the form."

Jackson chuckles as he stands for his last turn. "You love it, Stiles. Don't try to deny it."

Stiles looks away from all of them to hide what embarrassment he can, back at the arcade area. Half of them can hear his heartbeat anyway, though, so it's mostly usele—He frowns. Are those…? Yeah, those are the woman that came to his door.

"Hey, Derek," he says, elbowing him without looking away. "Derek."

"What?"

"See those women over there?"

"Where?"

"Over by the games."

"With the dresses and pale hair?"

"Yeah, those ones. They stopped by my house earlier and asked if I had a moment for Jesus."

A very low growl hums through Derek's chest. "What are they doing _here_, then?"

"I don't know, but I really don't think it's to hand out…" He trails off, because right then, all three of the ladies fade away like mist. They get carried off by the air conditioning and disappear completely. "…Bibles?"

Derek's growl stops and he stands abruptly. "The game is over," he says darkly.

Everyone but Stiles frowns at him. "We still have some rolls, though," Scott says.

"Not anymore."

"Why not?" Lydia huffs.

"Because I just figured out one of the things that Spandex is protecting Stiles from."

They crowd closer, the game forgotten. "What are they?" Jackson asks.

"Banshees," Derek growls, looking directly at Lydia. "We need to have that meeting _now_."

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

Lydia gives Peter an incredulous look. "You mean _I'm_ one of the monsters?"

"No," Peter says, shaking his head. "You're not a monster unless you choose to be, just like werewolves."

"Are the other banshees here for her, then?" Isaac asks.

"Probably," Derek says, arms crossed. "Stiles just got into the crossfire since Spandex is trying to protect him."

"Why did they come to my house if I'm not the one in danger, though?" Stiles asks.

"Maybe they can tell that you're the mate of the alpha," Boyd supplies.

"That or they're trying to get to my girlfriend through you since you're obsessed with her," Jackson says darkly.

Derek silences Stiles before he can make any sort of comeback. "It could be both," he says. "Or, even so, it's because you're the one with the mishibijw as a pet. They could see it as a threat and want to get it out of the way."

Stiles sighs. "Either way I'm in trouble. Do I get to be under constant surveillance again?"

Derek nods. "I'll do the first watch. You were doing some research, right?"

Stiles nods in turn. "I'm trying to remember their names… One of the two in grey was Zuri, buy I can't remember the others. All I know is that one of the banshees mentioned on the internet had four different names being Eevul, Aeval, Aibell, and Aoibheall."

"I'm a banshee?" Lydia asks again. "That's why you chose me to bring you back to life?"

Peter sighs. "I'll come over tonight and explain it more, alright? Jackson too, so he can watch you when I'm gone."

Derek nods. "You can do it now. This meeting is over. Everyone just…be on the lookout. Watch out for the descriptions that Stiles gave, plus anyone else that looks similar. There could be more than three, or even different beasts with them. Banshees don't kill things, so something must be killing for them."

Everyone nods before heading out, solemn compared to other adjourning meetings.

"I'll park across the street from your place," Derek says as he and Stiles get into the car. "When is your dad getting home?"

"What time is it now?" Stiles asks.

"About ten-thirty."

"He got home at nine, and I really doubt he's asleep yet. I'll open my bedroom window for you and Spandex as soon as I get into it."

Derek waits patiently outside of Stiles' house when they do get there, Spandex beside him after Stiles whistled for her. He hears two steady beating heartbeats, though Stiles' is a little faster with the slight lying he's doing. Eventually the window opens, and Derek lets Spandex jump in first.

"He might check on me before he goes to bed," Stiles says, "so don't fall asleep within half an hour."

Derek nods, grabbing the teen's laptop.

"Um…"

Derek rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to go through your porn folders."

"I don't have—ugh, whatever. Do you want some blankets and stuff?"

"I'd like them, yes."

Stiles grabs a pile of blankets and a pillow out of his closet. "They probably still smell like Isaac," he says, lying them out on the floor. "I didn't wash them after he stayed over."

"That's fine," he says, sitting down with his back to the bed.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Stiles asks as he sits down beside him on the makeshift bed.

Derek grins a little. "I'm checking my email."

"You have an email?"

"I have to have something if I don't have a phone."

"Why _don't_ you have one, anyway?"

He shrugs. "I don't need one."

"Alright, then how do you pay for anything? You have an awesome car and everything."

Derek smiles as he clicks around. "Besides the fact that the only living quarters we pay for are Peter's apartment, we've got a stash."

"A stash? Like a big pile of gold in some basement?"

"Yes, actually."

Stiles snorts. "Really?"

He rolls his eyes. "No. Peter, Laura, and I got everything after the fire, including house damage. Then I got all of their stuff after _they_ both died. Peter and I share it now."

"Wow, how much is that?"

He gives a sideways grin. "Let's just say that I won't need a job for a few more years."

"Only three years?"

Derek glares lightly at the teen's pointed look. "More than a few."

"A few twice plus one?"

"I am literally going to rip your throat out."

"Ooh, a threat. I haven't gotten one of those in a few days."

Derek rolls his eyes. "Go to bed, Stiles."

"I don't wanna. You don't have a Facebook, do you?"

"No."

"Want one?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"What would I even do with it? The only friends I've got are you guys."

He grins. "We're your _friends_?"

Derek looks away. "I am so done with you."

"Not if I don't get turned into a werewolf." He leans his head against Derek's shoulder. "Come on, come on, it'll be fun."

"I don't want a Facebook, Stiles."

"_Fine_. Can you at least put some music on?"

"If you get into bed I will."

"Your shoulder is comfortable though."

Derek gives him a raised eyebrow as he goes through Stiles' music folder. He must have every single All Time Low song in existence in here. "I've never gotten that before."

"Has anyone ever used it before?"

"No."

"Then it means nothing, so you're welcome for the compliment." He grabs what blankets he can and wraps them around his legs. "You can have my bed if I actually fall asleep on you."

"You're planning to?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Derek decides that doesn't justify an answer, so he just puts all of the music on shuffle. Without talking to the teen, he falls asleep almost immediately. Derek stays awake until the sheriff goes to bed, conveniently not having come to check up on his son. Stiles slumps over awkwardly when Derek moves, though, so he huffs before simply picking the kid up and putting him on the bed. He used to tuck his little sister in, so it's not hard to do the same for Stiles. Spandex curls up with the teen as soon as he does, so Derek bunkers down on the floor and tries to get some shut eye. God knows he needs it.

* * *

End chapter notes: Ugh I made these other beasts really fucking complicated. You'll understand what I mean in the next chapter and… It was an accident I swear! Either way, it's the end of chapter 8! A little thing about the hidebehinds: I'm basically making up everything about them except for the skinny thing. Also, triple date, woohoo!  
Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	9. Agent Double-Oh Batman

**9: Agent Double-Oh Batman**

_STILES  
Monday (in the middle of the night), June 10…_

Stiles dreams about banshees and hidebehinds, even though he doesn't know what the latter of those even look like. He's running. He can't stop running. They're after him like ghosts and beasts of black fog, bright eyes, and sharp fangs and claws. When he gets trapped at the end of an ally, all he can do is turn around and scream for Derek or Spandex to come and save him.

"They can't help you," Aibell says. She's the leader. That's why she's in white. "Not now. Not here."

Stiles' voice cuts off, and he presses his back to the brick.

"We don't want to hurt you," Zuri says, reaching a hand out to rub delicately against Stiles' cheek. "We only want to bring you with us."

Stiles doesn't understand, but it's too late for that. Everything is swimming out of focus, and he's forced to succumb to a dark, restless sleep.

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

Derek dreams about the night he was drunk. He's dancing with Stiles, but Isaac gets in the way. His mate disappears down the stairs, and Derek shoves Isaac away so he can follow. The teen is curled up in a corner with a large spotted pillow, and he smiles when he looks up and sees Derek watching him.

"I don't want you to hold my hand," Stiles says, "but you could always hold somewhere else."

Derek moves to sit beside him, smiling warmly as Stiles moves into his arms. He smiles like want and need and love.

"Is this what it's like to be mates?" Stiles whispers, splaying the fingers of a hand over Derek's chest.

Derek frowns, though. Stiles has claws. He looks back up at his eyes to see rings of yellow, and when Stiles grins, fangs peek out behind soft lips. "I want you, Derek," he says, a hum in his chest. "I want you to claim me."

The pillow turns into Spandex, and she hisses and hops away, her tail uncurling from around Stiles' waist where it usually is.

Stiles winks over at his pet, but when the eyelid opens, the yellow there is blue. "Please?" he says to Derek. "I won't bite. Not hard, anyway." He winks his other eye, and it turns blue as well.

Derek scrambles back. "Stiles, your eyes, they're—"

"Some people have to die, Derek," Stiles says as he bares his fangs and stands.

Derek swallows tightly. It's hard to breathe. "What people? Innocent people?"

"_Innocent_ people?" He laughs, and his claws and fangs begin to drip with venom the color of his eyes. "No, not the innocent. The unfortunate. Unfortunate little girls like Lydia Martin."

Derek snaps awake, his eyes red and claws sticking through the blankets that Stiles gave him. He glances at the bed. Hopefully the teen won't be too ma—

He gives the bed a double take. It's empty. It's four in the morning and it's empty.

Derek leaps up, letting out all of his senses. The only other beating heart in the house is the sleeping sheriff. Stiles' Jeep is still in the driveway, his phone is on the nightstand, and his shoes are by the door.

"Shit," Derek snarls, throwing the window open and diving out. "Shit, shit, shit." Stiles is gone. They took him. The banshees and whatever else is with them took him. He's got to find the others and make sure Lydia is safe before it's too late.

He leaves his car, runs to the forest, and lets out the loudest, most desperate howl he's ever given. Stiles—his mate—and Spandex are gone, and Lydia is in danger. Shit.

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES…_

Stiles groans a little as he comes to, head light and eyes blurry.

"He's waking up," a man whispers. "Should we knock him out again?"

"No," a woman says. "I want to talk to him now."

It takes a couple more seconds for the blur to go away, but when it does, he's greeted by a house that instantly reminds him of the headmasters office when Umbridge was in it. Pink, frills, and kittens. _Everywhere_. He's tied to a chair with some sort of white satin rope, and he realizes that there's another person tied in a chair beside him.

He swallows tightly. It's Lydia. Plus, Spandex is tied up like a hog at his feet, and her whimpers are breaking his heart.

Looking around some more he sees that he's in a living room, and there are couches facing him. In these couches are five people, with three women in one and two men in the other. Stiles knows it shouldn't cross his mind, but they're all some of the most beautiful people he's ever seen.

"Good morning," the woman in the middle says. It's the same voice from before. "Well, I say morning. It's about noon. Did you sleep well?"

Stiles glares. These aren't banshees—and for some reason, the fact that he's missing school is somewhat panicking. The others are probably missing it again as well, which means that this is the second Monday in a row that all of them have skipped the same day. Not exactly subtle. "What do you want with Lydia and the mishibijw?"

"Ooh, looking out for your friends right away?" the woman on the left says. "How nice of you."

"Before that, though," the third woman says, "I believe there are some introductions in order. Just because you're tied up doesn't mean we want to hurt you. What's your name?"

Stiles glares deeper. "You know my name."

"Yes," the man with the voice from earlier says, "but we like to hear you say it. The others too, while you're at it."

Stiles takes a deep, shaky breath. "Stiles, Lydia, and Spandex. What are _your_ names?"

The woman who first spoke, with shoulder length blonde hair and red sundress with a length to her ankles, is named Julia. The second to speak, with _long_ orange hair and a green sundress, is Emma. And the third woman, with short black hair and yellow cargo pants with matching suspenders over a black t-shirt, is Bianca. The men are apparently brothers, though not twins. The oldest, with silvery white hair and dressed in what Stiles can only call a cat suit, is Mason. And the youngest, with brown hair and brown pants and a white t-shirt, is Milo.

"Do you know what we are, Stiles?" Julia asks.

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Evil?"

They laugh. "Close enough," Mason says. "We're _sirens_."

Stiles feels himself pale a little. He hasn't specifically researched that species yet, but he knows enough that he knows they are indeed evil.

"Are you working with the banshees?" he asks. "Is that why you want Lydia?"

"Actually no," Bianca says, taping black painted nails on the arm of the couch. "The banshees don't exactly get along with us, and vice versa. We do want Lydia, though."

"Why?"

"To keep her from them," Emma says. "Aibell is recruiting. Can you imagine every last banshee under one ruler? It would be chaos. She only needs half of the world to start killing people herself."

Stiles frowns. "Aibell? The banshee with the twenty-five for the family of Brian Boru?"

Julia grins. "And _that_ is why we took _you_."

"Also for Spandex," Milo adds.

Stiles shakes his head at himself. He's so stupid. If he had just remembered Aibell's name he could have told Derek right away. Dammit. "Fine, you need my help to protect Lydi—"

"Protect her?" Bianca scoffs. "We can't protect her from Aibell. We're going to kill her."

Stiles pales again. "I'm not going to help you, then."

"That's fine," Mason says with an evil smirk. "Your mate will sacrifice her to save you anyway."

Stiles swallows tightly. "We're not mates yet."

"Not yet, no," Julia says. "The banshees have a plan for you, though, and we're still deciding if our plan will work if we let them carry the first part of it out."

Stiles frowns, remembering his dream and how Aibell told him that she wanted him to join them. "They're going to turn me into a werewolf?"

Emma shrugs. "We're not really sure what they're planning on, to be honest. That's why we're still thinking about it. As long as you survive, it probably doesn't matter."

Stiles forces himself to breathe evenly as he looks over at Lydia. "Why isn't she waking up too? Why haven't you already killed her?"

"She isn't waking up because we drugged her more than you," Bianca says. "And we haven't killed her yet because we _can't_. With this many banshees around, she's taking to her spirit form when she's in danger of death. She's solid right now because the ropes aren't dangerous, but if we put any knives to her she'll fade and slip through everything.

"Why do you need me to help kill her, then?"

They all sigh, and Julia leans forward a little. "You have to listen carefully, Stiles, and there's a lot to listen to. It's very important that you do."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "I'm tied to a chair and you think I'm going to try and plug my ears and sing 'la-la-la' so I don't have to listen to you?"

Bianca smirks. "I like him."

"You can't have him," Mason snaps. "He's going to be the alphas."

Julia raises her hands. "_Anyway_." She leans back. "Whatever you're going to be turned into, Stiles, it's going to be something very important to your 'Spandex' the only species alive that can permanently kill a banshee. Tell me, have you ever heard of a hidebehind?"

Stiles mashes his lips together. Just yesterday for the very first time. "I know that they can choose to have a healing bite instead of one that kills, but that's it."

"Shame, since that's the only part that doesn't matter to this. Hidebehinds have never been seen by the eye of man because they get eaten, but there are plenty of non-man related species that _have_ seen them. Sirens, for example, are not at all human, but we tend to look like them because they taste the best." She flits a wrist. "Anyway. The hidebehind is the only creature that can permanently kill a banshee, because banshees are half spirits of the mist, and hidebehinds are half beings of the solid. They're both opposites and the same, and while only they can kill banshees, they're the only thing that banshees can as well."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "So, how exactly am I supposed to help with that?"

Julia grins. "Banshees and hidebehinds used to be enemies, but Aibell made a truce with them hundreds of years ago. That left nothing to stop the hidebehinds from eating people, but very recently…there's been another." She leans forward again and drops a hand to point at Spandex. "Your pet."

Stiles frowns at Spandex, no longer whimpering. Was she just in pain because she didn't know if Stiles was? Too bad normal cats aren't as loyal. "What's she got that can help you guys with them? And can't you untie her? She's not going to hurt you if I tell her not to."

She smiles. Obviously she's the leader of this little band of five. "That's another reason that we took you. You control the mishibijw." She looks at Milo. "Be a dear, would you?"

Milo gives a very warm smile, and Stiles can then tell that he's the youngest of the sirens. They're all at least in their twenties, but Milo looks in his late teens.

Spandex hisses that waterfall sound as Milo nears her, but Stiles calms her down with a few short words. She instantly growls low in her chest after that, and then drapes herself of Stiles' lap when she's untied.

"Hey, 'Dex," Stiles says, smiling down at her. "Think you can get me out of these things?"

Emma frowns. "That's out of the question."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "There are five of you and two of us, plus dead weight Lydia I'd have to bring with. Besides, I want to know the whole plan. I may not be double-oh-seven, but you Joker's can always tell Batman everything too."

The five of them exchange odd looks, and Stiles gets that look very often, so he just smiles at them as Spandex uses her teeth to get him out of the satin ropes.

"Right then," he says, pushing the chair away so he can lean against Spandex on the floor. He might as well play along since he really should find out the whole plan. "How can my demon cat stop the hidebehinds?"

Julia gives a little eye roll. "Your creature is the only left of its kind, Stiles—in solid form, anyway. We know that she used to be like any other housecat, but when a mishibijw dies, their spirit infects the last body of water that it took to. When your pet ran away, she got lost in the forest after a time and got too close to the lake, so the spirit dragged her under. Housecats are the only animals the spirit can take to, but it very rarely happens because there were barely any of the mishibijw in the first place. Now, there are three spirits left, and one of them is Spandex."

"A dreadful name, by the way," Bianca says.

Stiles sticks his tongue out at her. "Give me a break, I wasn't even ten yet." He turns back to Julia and plays with Spandex's tail. "Go on."

She nods. "There used to be far more, though not tons, but the banshees and hidebehinds have learned how to destroy the spirits completely."

"Why do they want to destroy the mishibijw, though?"

"The hidebehinds happen to be catlike as well, and since the mishibijw are in fact rather demonic, their claws, fangs, and tails are able to harm them. Whatever the banshees are going to turn you into, it's going to be something that will be on their side. Once they've got you they've got Spandex, and then the other two spirits will flock to your rulers the moment that they obtain physical bodies. Not in this battle, though, because it takes three years for the spirits to the bodies of the housecats; that's why it's taken so long for your pet to come back to you. The mishibijw are usually very destructive creatures, but once their spirits have taken to housecats, they become very loyal to their previous owners. Aibell wants to recruit you and Spandex both so that nothing will be able to stop her and her banshees—_nothing_. They'll take over the world until there's nothing left to kill and wail for."

Stiles takes a deep breath, taking a few seconds to take everything in. "They want Lydia so they can recruit her. Simple enough. But they want me so they can control Spandex, and they want Spandex so the other two will eventually come and then they'll be unstoppable. I'm going to guess that they're just showing up now because it's when Spandex finished being changed and came to protect me?"

"That's mostly right."

Stiles buzzes his lips. "And here we thought that she came out to protect me from them coming in the first place. What about you guys, then? Why are you the ones trying to stop all this? And what was killing all the animals?"

"The hidebehinds were doing the killings," Milo says sadly. "The banshees were getting rid of Spandex's allies and food. Good thing she likes turkey."

Though Milo did help capture Stiles, Lydia, and Spandex, Stiles decides to like him.

"And the reason _we're_ the ones trying to stop them is my fault," Julia says with a smile only a little bit guilty. "I found something that she wants very badly. The Norse myths are very important, you see."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "Like the mistletoe?"

"Yeah, sure. Have you heard of Idunn's golden apples?"

He frowns. "Aren't those the apples that gave the Norse gods their eternal life?"

"Precisely. They gods aren't real, of course, but…" She looks at Mason. "You have it?"

"Obviously," he says, reaching over the side of the couch to pull up a drawstring bag and then to toss it to Julia.

Smiling, she reaches into the bag and pulls out none other than an apple made of gold. "_This_ is what cultures all across the world know as the fountain of eternal youth."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "They exist?"

"Only one." She tosses it upward, wherein Bianca darts her hand out and catches it.

"The only one left," she says, dragging her tongue across the skin. "It's not real gold, after all. You can burn them, and the ashes are deadly to the touch."

Emma snatches it away. "You don't eat it, though. You can't or you'll die, for the ashes are on the inside even before it burns."

"You only have to touch its skin," Mason says, holding his palm out for her to set the apple in it. "A single touch that adds twenty-four hours to your life. Want a feel?" He holds it out to Stiles, but Milo snatches it away.

"'Course not," he says, tossing it back to Julia. "Not without his friends. Eternal life is boring without friends."

"All of you shut up," Julia says with a good natured eye roll. "We're going to break the kid." She puts the apple away. "We've had this for a very long time now. Want to guess how man years exactly?"

Stiles purses his lips. "Eight-hundred, give or take?"

They all blink at him. "Told you I liked him," Bianca says, kicking her all black Converse with the yellow pants tucked in up and onto Julia's lap.

"What, I was right?"

"Close," Julia says, shoving the feet off. "Seven-hundred and ninety-three. We're all in bodies of the age of twenty-four, except Milo is twenty-one."

Stiles grins. "About eight-hundred and fifteen years old? Lookin' good. Well, you're sirens, so I guess—oh, never mind. Why are the banshees after it? Don't they live forever anyway?"

Julia raises an eyebrow and drops a pointed finger at the still out cold and tied up Lydia. "She's a banshee, but she's certainly not aging."

Stiles frowns. That's true. "Why does it matter, then?"

"Banshees don't age in their spirit form, but they _do_ in their solids. Banshees are born from the wail of ten or more at a time, and they're then linked to those banshees that had them created. Aibell doesn't want to create _more_ of them, she just wants the ones that already exist. She makes sure she's the only one that wails when someone dies so it stays that way. Anyway." She tosses the drawstring bag back to Mason. "She wants to be able to touch and feel things _all_ the time, but she also wants to continue to live forever. She wants the apple so she can do that, along with her followers. She also wants to rule the planet, though, so she's trying to kill off anything living besides banshee and hidebehind. There are only five hidebehinds in the entire world, and they've got three of them."

Stiles snorts, weaving Spandex's tail through his fingers. "She's been alive longer than you people and she doesn't understand that ruling the entire world is practically impossible? Idiot."

Bianca gives an evil laugh. "So young and naïve!" she cried, throwing her arms up. "I _have_ to have him at least _once_ before he's changed."

Julia groans, pressing a hand over her chest. "Bianca, _no_. I will not the one to let you ruin the plan by putting pieces of him through your teeth."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "She means that she wants to _eat_ me?"

"I'm a siren," Bianca says. "What did you expect? Besides, I'd only take a nibble." She licks her lips. "Only an ear and a couple of fingers…"

Spandex growls a little at Stiles' uneasiness, but he rubs her horns to make her stop. "I'd prefer if you didn't eat me, thanks."

"Shame," Milo says, grinning up at Mason. "We haven't eaten a live human in a couple of days now."

Stiles decides he might not like the youngest siren very much after all.

"Anyway," Julia says. "You get it all now, don't you?"

"I…might. Why do we have to kill Lydia again? Just so she can't join the ranks?"

"Oh right, the girl." Julia grins over at said female, still completely out cold. "She ties into this in a whole different way. She's much more than a banshee, you see—actually, much less. She is a human that a banshee spirit has attached to."

"Wait, wait, wait," Stiles says, shaking his head. "She's not actually a banshee?"

"You didn't think she was a _full_ one, did you?" Emma asks. "Look at her hair. That's not even a little bit pale, and it's certainly not dyed. She also likes her lipstick. Pale skin means nothing."

Julia flits a wrist to shut them up. "You've read of banshees on the internet, so you know of the family that Aibell and her original twenty-five once belonged to. The first daughter of Brian Boru, named Sadb, died in 1048. When she died, she was wailed for from over seventy of those she-devils, half creating _her_ into a banshee. People do not usually become banshees, they are simply _created_. It takes hundreds to turn a dead body into one of their own, so she became an abomination.

"Sadb has attached her way through the families through the centuries, doing what she can to survive without a full body. She ages with those that she is attached to, so she is constantly attaching to new people. Changing to those ages once having done so. She has only been with Lydia for a very short time since she is so young, and now Aibell has come here to take the golden apple and save her, giving her eternal youth as well—because, if she dies, Aibell and every last one of her thousands of banshees will die with her, for she is the last of the Dal gCais.

"Lydia, the apple, you, and the mishibijw. Everything that she needs is in this city. _Everything_. And you can't let her win that, Stiles. You must use your power over your mishibijw to have her befriend the hidebehinds so that they no longer protect the banshees and instead _kill_ so that Aibell will not keep destroy others. The world will _end_ if she is its ruler! Just because the Norse gods don't exist does not mean that that she-devil will not bring about her very own ragnarok."

Stiles can feel his heart beating faster than a war drum. "I can't kill her!" he yells, jumping up. "You said that the banshee is attached to her, so figure out a way to break them apart!"

Julia shakes her head. "There is no way, Stiles. You must kill her. Sadb is in a dormant state when Lydia is not in harm, so you have to recruit the hidebehinds to destroy her before she knows what's coming, and that way Aibell and _every last one_ of her followers will die with her."

"And if you _don't_…" Emma says darkly, and as she stands as well, her beauty melts away to a sort of sea creature that looks like bull kelp and vomit. "We'll have to kill _you_. You know far too much to survive and then disobey us."

Stiles stands firm as Mason and Milo stand and change as well, their beauty gone.

"Give me a chance to figure out how to split them apart without letting Sadb move into the body of another," he grinds out as Spandex moans lower in her chest. "There are other ways to find out. I run with werewolves; we're not without knowledge of these things. We have records. We can work _together_."

Julia stands as well, looking as though she's about to morph into her true siren form, but Bianca stands before she can, staying in her human form.

"I trust him," she says. "Listen to his heart. He's terrified, but he's not lying."

Milo is the first to change back. "She's right," he says, moving to stand at Stiles' side. "We could use their help, Julia. We've been running so long."

Stiles smiles. Fine, he'll like him again.

At Julia's deep exhale, Emma and Mason morph back to their human form as well. "Can we trust you, Stiles?" she asks.

Stiles swallows deeply. "More than any other human you've met."

She grins. "Very well then, human. Take us to your wolves."

"Yeah, great idea. First, though… Who the _hell_ did the decorating?"

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

It's two in the afternoon. Derek woke up ten hours ago and Stiles and Spandex are still missing. So is Lydia, which he found out the moment everyone met up after his howl. She was taken in the night just like Stiles and his pet were.

They looked everywhere, where their eyes or nose or any other senses would take them. They couldn't find anything. They haven't even found any more dead animals; the banshees and whatever else have probably given up now that they all know what's going on.

"Where else?" Derek asks, leaning over the map at the table in the warehouse like he usually does.

"There's _nowhere else_, Derek," Erica says, standing beside him. She's done everything she can to find Stiles, but it seems she's finally given up. She and Derek were the last ones—even Scott and Jackson are just sprawled out on the floor—but now it's just him.

"He's not dead," he snarls, mostly to himself. "They wouldn't kill him, Lydia, _or_ Spandex. That would just fuel our anger and make us harder to defeat. They're being held captive somewhere, I know it."

"How do you _know_ that?" Isaac asks darkly, hiding in shadows just as dark up on the ceiling. He's not taking it well either, but he's more angry than anything else.

"Because Stiles and I are mates," Derek mutters. "Even though he's human I would be able to feel if he died. Spandex could be dead because she's a threat, but not when she listens to everything that Stiles says. Lydia isn't dead because they want her. They wouldn't kill one of their own kind. That would be stupid."

"Yeah, probably," a new voice says, and every last one of them (all of the werewolves and Allison) snap their heads up to the stairs. Stiles is standing in front, with Spandex at his side, and there are five strangers behind him, with Lydia draped over the oldest looking males shoulder.

They all growl sharply, and Jackson launches towards the one with Lydia even though they're still up on the stairs. There are three females and two males, and both of those males scare Jackson back pretty good when their perfect faces snarl into a look that Derek knows are sirens from pictures. They only have a smell in water, but on land they smell like any other human.

"What's going on, Stiles?" Derek asks darkly.

"I know this is confusing, but…" He sighs, moving to the bottom of the stairs. "I've disappeared a lot and I'm sorry, but I'm fine, and so is Lydia—I mean, if being drugged consists of being fine." He waves his hands. "These are, uh, sirens. The blonde is Julia, the redhead is Emma, the one in suspenders is Bianca, the one with Lydia is Mason, and the last one there is Milo. There not here to hurt us; they're here to help."

"In a sense," Julia says, walking down to stand beside him. She must be their leader.

"Yeah," Stiles says, dragging a hand down his face. "It's, uh…complicated."

"Care to explain, then?" Peter grinds out. He's not happy about his favorite little banshee being taken either.

"Before we rip your throats out would be best," Isaac growls, swinging upside down.

The one called Bianca gives him a set of wide eyes. "A wolf that climbs? That's a new one."

"I would love to explain," Julia says as she and the others move slowly down to stand beside Stiles and face the others, all in attack stance. "It's not going to be short, though, and I might be able to trust Stiles, but I don't know if I can trust you."

Derek stares intently at Stiles. "You trust them?" he asks.

"Right now, yeah," the teen says.

"What do you mean _right now_?" Scott asks, eyes glowing yellow.

"That's complicated too," he says, rolling his eyes. "I need all of you to trust me enough to not hurt them and let them explain, though, alright? It's extremely important."

Derek forces his eyes to go from red to their normal green, and he stands up straighter. "Fine," he grinds out. "One wrong move, though…"

"We're not going to hurt you, imbeciles," the one called Emma mutters, moving down to rub at one of Spandex's horns. "We want your help if we can get it. We don't like killing people unless we can eat them, and we're not exactly partial to wolf."

Allison cringes slightly. "Good thing I'm here, then."

Milo gives her a very dreamy smile. "Hi."

Scott snarls at him, though, and the kid (or however old he is) gets the picture and backs off right away. He would have just ended up eating her anyway."

"Everyone sit down," Stiles says, moving straight over to Derek and tugging at his arm to sit against Spandex with him. Either he's giving in to the mate thing a little more or he knows that Derek would have stood up the entire time. "This isn't going to be short."

Everyone does tentatively, as do the sirens, but for Mason holding Lydia. He moves towards Jackson before lying Lydia carefully down beside him. "Kiss her forehead three times," he says, "and she'll wake up."

Jackson gives him a weird look, but he does it, and Lydia wakes up with a groggy look to her. "What the holy hell happened?"

Jackson kisses her again. "You'll find out in just a minute."

"Yeah," Stiles says, looking around. "Uh, Julia, these are Derek, Scott, Allison, Peter, Erica, Isaac, Boyd, and Jackson."

Julia nods, moving to stand in the middle of them all while the other four take seats on the stairs. "Lovely to meet you. You know that you're up against banshees, but that's not the only thing you have to be on the lookout for…"

**XxX**

Everyone is silent for a very long time, and Stiles is practically asleep on Derek's shoulder. He _would_ be bored hearing something so important for a second time.

Lydia finally breaks the silence: "So now I'm only _half_ of a banshee?"

Peter waves a hand so that the others ignore her. "We have to figure out how to split Sadb from Lydia without letting her get to another body?" he asks.

"That's what Stiles brought us here for, yes," Julia says. The other four chimed in during the "story" as well; Milo likes animals, Mason is the protective older brother, Emma is mean and doesn't like anyone, Bianca is the weirdest but also very normal compared to most weird people that Derek knows, and Julia likes to be in charge but also likes to smile.

"But you don't know what Stiles is going to get turned into?" Derek asks.

"Nope," Milo says, shaking his head. "Just that it's going to be something that has a connection to both the mishibijw _and_ the hidebehinds. It will probably be catlike."

Derek, Stiles, and Peter all glance at each other before Stiles and Peter burst into laughter, but Derek just huffs. "If you smell bad," he mutters, "I'm never sitting by you again."

"Don't worry," Stiles says, leaning back against his shoulder. "The feeling will be mutual."

Julia smiles at them. "I think you'll still be cute together."

Derek rolls his eyes, and Stiles cringes a little.

"It's still a soft spot for them," Erica says with a warm smile. "They'll get over it eventually."

"Eventually," Stiles mutters. "Not today, though. Stars. Can't do it."

A couple of the inhabitants of the room snicker, but Derek is not among them. "I don't know what that's from," he says, "but I'm certain it's not important. Peter, we need to do some more reading."

"That'd be nice," Lydia says snippily, "because I'm not really in the mood to die anytime soon."

Emma smirks, still tossing the golden apple between her hands from the earlier telling of it. "Join the club, sweetie," she says sickly sweet.

"Where do we all go?" Isaac asks, finally swinging down from where he decided to listen in the rafters. "I don't trust the sirens enough to all have a sleepover at Lydia's."

"Ooh, trust issues," Bianca coos, swinging over the steps in her own acrobatic form to land in front of him. "Better get rid of those now, kiddo, or you'll find yourself _friendless_."

Isaac growls at her a little, but she simply flits a wrist and moves to lean against the table with the map on it.

"You're all over eight-hundred years old, though?" Boyd asks, eyes following the apple in fascination.

"We're all eight-hundred and seventeen," Mason says, "but Milo is eight-hundred and fourteen."

"Bianca is right, though," Julia says. "We need to trust each other. If you can find something that will split them apart, we won't have to kill your precious half-banshee. If you can't, though, the truce is over. We can't let Aibell get what she wants."

"What do we do, perform an exorcism?" Jackson snaps.

"That might work," Peter says, "but Derek and I will do the reading first."

"So will we," Scott says about him and Allison. "We're not just going to sit aside and let her die."

"Actually, man," Stiles says as Derek stands up from sitting beside him, "why don't you take Milo to meet Deaton? He would like it there at the vet."

Milo grins, standing up at his spot on the steps. "I could help you with any sick ones," he says. "I know almost every disease among common animals. I've been around long enough."

Scott looks displeased about the idea, but Allison smiles. "I think we should," she says. "He's not going to eat me." She glances up at him. "Right?"

"None of us will eat you," Julia says. "We won't eat a single person in the city unless they're already dead. We can eat normal food too, you know. Vegetables and poultry and the like. Sirens don't _need_ human flesh, we just prefer it."

"Yeah, it's not every day a pirate ship sails passed a cove," Mason says. "If that happened we'd only eat once or twice a month. We wouldn't survive that way."

"Do you guys _actually_ live in the ocean?" Stiles asks as he holds his arms up for Derek to help him up.

"Not anymore," Emma says, "but we were born in it."

"How do you guys reproduce?" Stiles asks. "I mean, looking how you do…"

Bianca rolls her eyes. "Just because you think we look hideous doesn't mean our species does. It's about the same as humans, except that we lay eggs. Kind of like ostriches, where it's only one. Sometimes two can hatch from the one egg, though, which is like twins. Most sirens have gotten so used to be human, though, that they only bang in that form. Most of the time the only reason for a siren to turn into her real form is to scare someone, eat them more effectively, or for a female is to lay their egg. The egg would get crushed coming out like a human baby."

"What _do_ you guys look like?" Isaac asks.

"Vomit and seaweed," Stiles mutters as Spandex wraps her tail around his waist.

"Can we see?" Isaac asks.

The sirens give him a weird look. "You _want_ to see?" Milo asks.

He shrugs. "I just want to know if you're worse than what I'm picturing."

Julia nods at Bianca, and a couple cracked knuckles later, Miss Suspenders is hissing at them in a form Derek can completely agree with Stiles that it looks like vomit and seaweed.

Isaac, though, actually snorts. "That's not near as bad as what I was picturing," he says. "I saw a blobby monster of sewage vomit and spinach. You're actually shaped like humans are, with seaweed like hair, and…" He raises an eyebrow. "Do you seriously have bull kelp bulbs where your human breasts would be?"

All of the sirens burst into laughter, but when Bianca quick morphs back, she's simply blinking widely at him.

"Females have those, yes," Julia says, patting Bianca on the shoulder as she walks towards the stairs without a word. "It's not important, though. Are we staying here for research? Because it's not a very nice place to sit around for so long. We've already exhausted our efforts, too, so we're not helping."

Lydia lets out an aggravated sigh. "Fine," she grumbles. "We'll go to my place. There's not enough room for us all on the couches, though, so you sirens get the floor."

"I still don't trust anyone," Isaac says.

Derek rolls his eyes. "Would it make you feel better if we assigned ourselves to each of them?"

"No, I didn't mean… Actually, yeah."

Emma points at Jackson and Lydia. "I'll stay with you two."

"We'll take Milo," Allison says for her and Scott.

"Boyd, Isaac, and I will take Bianca," Erica says. Derek notices a strange glint in her eyes, but he doesn't care enough to find out exactly what it is.

"Mason can come with Emma," Peter says, "since I'll be with Lydia and Jackson pretty much all of the time."

"And Derek and I will take Julia," Stiles says. "Fitting, the alphas together."

"We don't have alphas," Julia says. "It's more like kings and queens. It works for now, though."

"Are we all going straight to my house?" Lydia asks in another huff, holding her cell phone up. "Because I need to tell my mom that I'm bringing fourteen bloody people over."

"We'll all meet there," Peter says. "I've got to get my laptop."

"And the bestiary is at my place," Stiles says.

"Let's get moving, then," Derek says. "We'll meet around the pool."

All five of the sirens' eyes light up. "Pool?" Milo asks brightly. "Water?"

Lydia rolls her eyes. "Fine, you three can borrow an extra swimsuit."

"I'll bring extras too," Stiles says. "Her mom don't know about anything, so you can't skinny dip or swim in your true forms."

And with that they're off, up the stairs, and to the cars. Derek sighs the entire way. This isn't going to be easy; it's going to get complicated very fast.

* * *

End chapter notes: Like I said, a whole bunch of beasts that spewed out! Very hectic. Hopefully all of that made sense. If not, feel free to comment/message me :) Also I totally based the human appearances of my sirens off of old cartoon network characters… Julia is Clover from Totally Spies, Emma is Sam from there, and Bianca is Alex from there as well. Mason is Danny Phantom in his ghost form, and then Milo is Ben from Ben 10. And I got Julia's name from the Beatles song "Julia" because the lyrics are like "Julia, ocean child, calls me, so I sing the song of love…" It seemed fitting with the whole siren thing. Anyway! End of chapter 9. The werewolves and sirens have ganged up? Not sure why I decided that but it totally works. Werewolves, sirens, and humans against banshees and hidebehinds… Sketchy at best, but like I said, it spewed out. Also I just realized that I haven't written a single thing about Lydia's dog Prada… Crap. Guess she doesn't have a dog in this story! Shh.

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	10. The Longest Night in the World

**10: The Longest Night in the World**

Quick note: Since they haven't announced what Stiles' first name is yet I'm totally going to make something up.

* * *

_STILES  
Tuesday (the middle of the night), June 11…_

Much as he dislikes the idea of Lydia possibly being killed, the sirens are actually a lot of fun when they're not trying to do just that. Lydia's mom wasn't home for a while, so the five sirens put themselves into merfolk forms and splashed around. Erica and Stiles were the only ones who decided to just fuck it and swim with them at first, but eventually they convinced Allison and Isaac to join in, and the others slowly moved in too. Not Derek and Peter, though, who are reading up on information in books and on Peter's laptop.

In merfolk forms, each of the sirens had a different colored tail, and the females have different colored seaweeds grown around their chests. They kept the swimsuits off to the side for when Lydia's parents finally came home, but that wasn't till about seven in the evening. As their outfits, Julia's tail and seaweed were a solid red, Emma's were green, Bianca's were yellow but with black tiger stripes on her tail (apparently she had a crush on a tiger shark once, but Stiles didn't really feel like figuring out the details to that), Mason's tail was silver up top but faded into black at the end of the tail, and Milo's tail looked like that of a koi fish.

Now it's about one in the morning and they're all downstairs with the Road to El Dorado playing softly in the background, each with an empty wine glass that was filled no more than twice and five sleeping bags on the floor over a couple of inflatable mattresses. Bianca opted to just sleep in her bag at the foot of the couch that Isaac, Lydia, and Jackson are on, while Milo and Mason are sharing one mattress and Julia and Emma are on the other.

Stiles, Derek, Peter, Isaac, Spandex, Bianca, and Milo are the only ones still awake out of the fourteen guests, host, and pet. Stiles is reading over Derek's shoulder as he combs through the sections on banshees, hidebehinds, sirens, _and_ humans in the bestiary (why humans are in there, Stiles doesn't know, but it's even stranger that they only have a page of information to them). Peter is scrolling endlessly through the same sections on his laptop records, Milo is playing as quietly as he can with Spandex (Stiles loves that she only trusts people when Stiles does, too), and Isaac and Bianca seem to be having an argument about something or another via whispering. Isaac, Lydia, and Jackson are on one couch, Stiles is on one with Derek and Peter, and then the middle one is to Scott, Allison, Erica, and Boyd. It's the new arrangement now that everyone has accepted that Derek and Stiles are going to end up as mates, it seems.

"I'm pretty sure the only thing that might work," Peter mutters to Derek and Stiles, "is if we perform an exorcism on her. The problem with that, though, is that I really don't want to read up on those next."

"We could just watch Supernatural," Stiles says, looking up from the book. Derek reads faster than he does anyway.

"Yes, because we have enough time to watch even one season of a show before Aibell makes her move," Bianca snaps. "Not to mention that all of you have school tomorrow."

Isaac instantly gets mad at her for being mean, and they go off on each other again. Stiles totally ships it.

"I'm not finding anything either," Derek says with a sigh. "You really think it could work?"

"I have no idea," Peter says. "That's why we've got to read up on it."

Stiles reaches down to his overnight bag and pulls out his own laptop. "Here," he says, handing it to Derek. "Both of you find different sites and do what you can. I have to pee."

"Don't go alone," Derek says as he opens the electronic device.

Stiles gives him a dull look before looking around the room. "Hey, anyone wanna come pee with me?"

He expected to only get a couple of equally dull looks, but Bianca actually raises her hand. "Anything to get away from Mr. Trust Issues," she growls, rolling out of her sleeping bag.

"You're not the one that gets glass thrown at you all the time," Isaac hisses at her.

Stiles can't help but laugh a little, and he tells Spandex to stay here as he and the siren that wants to eat him head out so that Stiles can pee outside of the gate.

"Don't watch," he mutters as he pulls the zipper down.

Bianca snorts, leaning against the wall semi-behind him. "I'm not interest in your looks."

"Isaac, then?"

She rolls her eyes. "Isaac is annoying."

"Then stop talking to him."

She frowns. "Maybe I don't want to."

He grins. "It's a good thing you're not a fan of wolf meat," he says, putting his pants back together. "You guys would be cute together. I wouldn't blame you if you tried it."

She scoffs. "As if he'd go for it."

"Ask him. Isaac may have trust issues, but he's a lot like me. I'll totally help, too. I'm pretty good at that."

She snorts. "Yeah, I heard all about how the female wolf—"

"Erica."

"Whatever. How she lied to you so that you would help her and the alpha together when she was really trying to get you two together."

"That was complicated," Stiles says as they walk back inside the fence, closing it tightly behind them. "It doesn't count."

"You sure? I'm pretty sure it—" She cuts off, shoving Stiles roughly behind her. "They're here," she whispers.

Stiles knows that she means the banshees. "Where? How can you tell? Do they have a smell?"

"Only when you're trained to find it," she whispers. "Quick, we have to get back inside to…" But she trails off, because they're already surrounded.

The banshees don't come closer, simply floating forebodingly on the ledge of the wall around the pool and up on the roof. They're all in ugly grey dresses and have pale hair, though not all are platinum blonde; some is a faded bark brown, or a strawberry blonde so light that it's basically just blonde. There's the one banshee, though, with the dress of white, and she floats down to stop about a yard from Stiles and Bianca.

"Hello, Bianca," she says softly. "So lovely to see you again."

Bianca hisses at her.

Against his better judgment, Stiles pushes himself out from behind Bianca to stand beside her. "What do you want to turn me into?" he demands.

Aibell gives a warm smile in looks, but her eyes are cold. "Nothing your little wolf friends will be happy about," she says. She raises a ghostly hand, and something moves in the shadows. Not to attack, but simply to move to Aibell's side. It's the same hidebehind creature from Stiles' dream… It's made of a ghostly, misty material as black as night but for the gleaming silver fangs, claws, and glowing eyes that are a deep, gleaming violet. As it stands beside Aibell, the front half of it becomes a solid so that Stiles can tell that it has the head of a cat. It's a very large cat, though smaller than Spandex. The way its back half stays as a mist reminds Stiles of the sandstorm coyotes from Atlantis: Milo's Return.

"This is Fela," she says. "He is the strongest of our three hidebehind friends. The other two, Cuddio and Sakriti, are currently keeping your werewolves at bay, along with more of my women."

Stiles and Bianca both cast a glance in the direction of the stairs, but of course they can't actually see anything from where they're standing.

"We're not here to claim you quite yet, Lucius Stilinksi, we—"

Bianca actually cuts the she-devil off with a snort, and Stiles' blushes furiously. "Your first name is _Lucius_?"

"It was my grandpa's name," he snaps. "My mom convinced my dad, okay? You really thought they named me 'Stiles Stilinksi'?"

"That's better than _Lucius_. Good lord, how is that even spelt?"

"_SILENCE_!" Aibell screams, her hair flaring up and eyes burning red.

Stiles takes a few steps back into Bianca.

"We're not going to turn you yet," she continues. "Not completely, anyway."

Like a wave of shining white, the banshees dive at them, and Bianca and Stiles are yanked apart. Bianca is held down by her arms and legs and her mouth is covered, so she can barely even scream and kick. Stiles is only held with enough banshees to hold all four limbs down and to cover his mouth so he can't scream.

Aibell moves to float above him, and Stiles' eyes widen when she pulls a tattered shirt covered in blood out of her dress. It's the same shirt that Stiles is wearing now. "You'll only be dead for a moment," she says sickly sweet, beginning to twist the shirt so tightly that the blood on it begins to drip out of it. It disappears before it lands on anything, but it still makes Stiles sick. "Fela will keep you safe."

Stiles knows that he's not going to get away, but he struggles anyway. Who wouldn't when a misty black cat-beast is stalking towards you with glowing purple eyes and matching colored venom seeping from its fangs and claws? Stiles can name a total of zero people.

"It won't hurt too bad," Aibell says. "The venom numbs very quickly.

That doesn't at all console Stiles' panic, and it doesn't help that Fela's mouth has reached Stiles' side. Another banshee leans down and rips open his shirt; Stiles can practically _see_ his heart pounding against his chest. He feels as though his ribs are going to break so that his heart can leap away. Fela sniffs at the skin, and Stiles screams against whatever banshee is silencing him. Derek's name is mixed in with them, but no one can actually understand it.

And then it happens. Fela opens his jaws and clamps them back down on Stiles' side. His screaming instantly stops, a gurgling pain cutting it off. The pain is worse than anything he's ever felt, but almost instantly it numbs over like he's fallen asleep on it. He can feel the venom spreading through his body; he can _see_ the veins close to the surface turning the same purple.

He knows he's almost gone when the banshees let go of his mouth and limbs, and then… Aibell. She screams. She wails so loudly that Stiles feels like his brain is going to mush out of his ears. And then everything goes black.

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

Derek can hear everything. Stiles mumbling his name against a ghostly hand and the way his heart is trying to beat out of his chest and…and how the screaming stops and his heart begins to slow and…

Derek's breath stops when the wail of a banshee splits through the night, immediately followed by the dead stop of Stiles' heart.

He loses it. His alpha rips out of him like it never has before. It doesn't matter that there are banshees and hidebehinds keeping them in the basement. He smashes through their barriers and up the stairs, snarling at anything that moves. The banshees simply grin before disappearing, leaving Bianca to leap up with claws and glowing, bright yellow eyes. Stiles, though… He just lies there. Derek sprints over to him as the others are making their way up the stairs, including Mrs. Martin running out of a different door in her bathrobe. Derek's alpha gets tucked away in his panic.

"Stiles!" Derek yells, ripping the teens shirt off completely. The bite of the hidebehind looks nothing like a wolf's, with larger teeth marks but less teeth. He reaches to the bite, using two fingers to wipe up goopy purple slime.

"It's venom!" Julia says, dropping down at Stiles' other side as the others are crowding just far enough away that they've got space to move. Lydia and Jackson are doing what they can with Mrs. Martin, Bianca claiming an unknown animal jumping out of nowhere and biting him. "If you harvest it right you can use it to knock someone out so deeply that they'll never wake up! That's what we used on Lydia. This is different, but it might work. You have to kiss his forehead three times!"

Derek remembers how Jackson was told to do that to wake up Lydia, so he instantly leans down and presses his lips to Stiles' forehead, pulls away, and does it twice more. Nothing happens for a second and it feels like such an eternity that Derek and everyone else is going to explode (Mrs. Martin is going on about calling 911, so Peter says to Lydia that he'll take the memory away when this is all over)…

Stiles coughs, his chest pushing up and purple goo seeping out of the wound. It drips out of his mouth as Derek rolls him onto his side, and when the coughing stops, his eyes open wide. His heartbeat starts up slowly, and his breathing is even, and—

"You fucking idiot," Derek whispers (though even to his own ears it sounds more relieved than annoyed), grabbing up Stiles' shirt to wipe lightly at the wound. He looks up at Boyd standing beside him. "Get a glass water." When Boyd runs off, he looks back down at Stiles. The teen is clutching at one of Derek's thighs and the other hand is braced against the concrete, and he gives one more cough of purple slime before taking in deep, ragged breaths.

Derek rips off his own shirt and uses it to wipe up the purple drool on Stiles' face. "I thought I lost you," he growls.

The human (he stills smells human, which means he is, right? The hidebehinds don't change a person) looks up at him with a weak smile. "Lose me?" he says just as weak. "You wish. I'm like the stench your washing machine gets after owning it for a while. I'll never go away."

Every lets out deep breaths of relief at the comment. If Stiles is his usual annoying self, he must be fine.

"Here," Boyd says, returned with the glass of water.

Stiles drinks it heartily as the others move to sit around, but Peter and Lydia move into the house with Mrs. Martin to get rid of her memory.

"You're a real pain in the neck, you know that?" Isaac says to Stiles as he sits down by his head and leans against the wall.

"Isaac!" Bianca yells, smacking his shoulder, now back in her fully human form.

"Don't give me that," he mutters at her. "We thought he was dead once, he got captured by _you_ guys next, and now he _did_ just die—and then came back to life, by the way, which has already happened to two of us. Completely unoriginal."

Nobody laughs until Stiles does, and when he does, it's the wimpiest, most painful sounding laugh that Derek has ever heard. When everyone else laughs too, it's mostly just _at_ him instead of with him.

"Well, now that he's not dead," Erica says, unsuccessfully hiding her relief, "what do we do? He has a huge bite mark in his side that killed him momentarily and now he's fine." She looks at Julia. "You said that the banshees wanted to turn him into something, but you don't know what." She looks back at Derek. "But when we got here, _you_ said that the bite of a hidebehind isn't supposed to change you. They just wanted to scare us or something?"

"Whatever it is," Stiles says, "I don't wanna know it." He tries to sit up, but Derek puts a hand over his chest.

"Stiles, this needs to be looked at," he says.

"Nonsense," the teen says, shoving Derek's hand away and then using it to pull himself up. "Scott got bit and he didn't even need stitches."

"Yeah, but mine healed," Scott says. "Yours won't."

"Not true," Milo says. "It'll be about an hour, but it will. That's a healing bite."

"How can you tell?" Allison asks.

The youngest siren squats down and points. "See this spot right in the middle? There are teeth marks there. Hidebehinds have a set of fangs right at the top of their mouth, and those secrete the liquid that heals you. It's clear, which is why there are no last remaining bits of purple gunk squishing out." (Stiles gives a disgusted cringe at the word choice.) "That part is venom, which kills you, but the clear stuff counteracts it to allow him to come back to life at all." He grins. "Everything has to get worse before it can get better, right?"

Scott smiles. "You sure know a lot about animals."

"I've lived on a couple of farms in my day, human or otherwise. Horses to harpies, chickens to basilisks. Fun stuff."

Stiles is already leaning all of his weight on Derek, but now he's looking up at him. "I wanna go home, Derek," he says just loud enough for him to hear. "Please? Nothing else is going to happen tonight—_and_ I'm going to heal in less than an hour. I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed."

Derek sighs through his nose. "Fine, but I'm staying over with you again."

"I figured. Blankets are still on the floor."

He shakes his head. "I'm not sleeping this time."

The teen looks like he's about to protest, but changes his mind. "Help me up, then."

"No, I'll carry you."

"What? C'mon, I'm not some damsel in distress who needs some knight in fury armor to—"

"Stiles."

"Oh, _fine_," he mutters. "Carry me like a fucking baby."

Jackson grins. "_Like_ a baby?"

"Can it, wolfhound."

Isaac and Bianca snicker. Derek can't tell if they hate each other or not; they're not putting any odd smells out.

Derek carries an annoyed Stiles out to his car, which they picked up after the meeting. Stiles' Jeep was left at his own house under the pretense that he got a ride to Scott's on the motorcycle.

"I feel really fucking tired," Stiles says as Derek drives them home—well, he says home, but he doesn't really have one of his own—after telling Peter they weren't going to stay at Lydia's.

"Well, you did just die," Derek says. "It's been months and even Peter isn't back up to his full quota."

Stiles frowns. "I'm gonna be tired for the rest of my life?" He sighs. "As if I don't take enough Adderall already."

Stiles sent Spandex into the forest for the night (he thinks she'll be safer in her water home), and then he and Derek sneak into his room through the window.

"It kinda hurts," the teen whispers as not to wake his dad. He won't be sleeping with a shirt tonight. "Not too much, though. Itches a bit, too."

Derek hums in reply, grabbing up Stiles' pajama pants before throwing them over to him. "The problem I have staying with you is that I don't fit in any of your clothes."

Stiles grins. "Guess what I've still got of yours."

The Miguel/Danny incident flashes through his mind. "I've been looking everywhere for that damn thing."

Stiles bends down underneath his bed and pulls out Derek's long sleeve grey shirt with blood stains. "It fell down here when you took it off," he says. "I kept forgetting about it."

Derek nods and sets it on the desk. "I'll take it home tomorrow."

The teen nods as he crawls into the bed after having changed his pants. "What are you going to do all night, then?"

"Internet." He points at the laptop. "Read up on exorcisms. The sirens are still going to kill Lydia if we can't separate her and Sadb."

He nods, scooting to one side of the bed. "Do it here until I pass out. I wanna know stuff too."

Derek humors him and does so, letting the teen use his shoulder as a headrest again. It's about three when Stiles' bite is completely healed, not to mention his head slowly sliding off of Derek's shoulder.

"Stiles," he whispers, closing the laptop. "Stiles, you're gonna hurt your neck doing that." He sets the laptop lightly on the floor. "Stiles?"

Stiles giggles a little. "You care about my _neck_?" He throws an arm across his lap, and Derek can _smell_ how tired he is. "You know, you haven't smiled or laughed too much more, but somehow you're being a lot nicer to people."

Derek blinks a bit. "Am I?"

He nods, leaning away to look up at him. "Know what else?"

"Hmm?"

"You smell really good."

Derek snorts, swinging off the bed. "Go to bed."

"But I'm cold."

"I'm not going to sleep next to you, Stiles."

"I know that; I wanted you to tuck me in."

Derek sighs, but he humors him, tucking the blankets in around where he's sleeping on his side. "Now sleep," he says, setting it on the desk.

"Alright."

Stiles is quiet for a grand total of three minutes.

"Hey, Derek?"

Derek would be lying to himself if he didn't acknowledge the damn smile that spreads across his face. He _would_ get stuck with the most stubborn kid in the packs. "I thought you were going to bed."

Stiles sighs as he pushes up, looking over at Derek. "I have another question about mates."

Derek raises an eyebrow. "What?"

The teen purses his lips. "What happened when I died? Did you feel anything? Like…a chest pain or something?"

Derek swallows tightly. "My heart stopped. My heart literally stopped. I think that was just because you're growing on me, though… You're still human, so we're not complete mates. I don't think I'll feel a physical pain that's linked to that unless you're turned. As a werewolf it would hurt me too much to ever fall in love again, but as anything else it would probably just…" He trails off, though, because the look in Stiles' face is just… He's tried, but his eyes are wide awake and sad and Derek has no idea why. "What's wrong, Stiles?"

The teen sighs, dropping his head back to his pillow. "It doesn't matter. I'll go to sleep now."

Derek rolls his eyes and moves to the bed, sitting down on the side. "I can hear your heartbeat," he says, squeezing his hand beneath the blanket again. "It matters to you. Tell me."

Stiles sighs again. "I just… I don't want to be forced to fall in love with you. I don't want to get turned into a werewolf and feel like the only thing in the entire world is you. I mean, you're a big part of it, but I don't love you yet. I want to _fall_ in love, not be pulled into it."

Derek feels a crooked smile spreading on his mouth. "You want me to hold your hand, don't you?"

Stiles frowns up at him. "What? No, I—"

"Heartbeat, Stiles."

He groans, looking away. "You've grown on me lately—I'll give you that. But we don't know anything _about_ each other except that you think I'm annoying and I think you're mean. Actually, you know I like stars and I know that your favorite color is white, but I only know that because Erica told me. I'm _going_ to get turned into something now, and I don't want us to be together if it's just because fate decided to play a joke on us, you know? It sounds dumb, I know, but…" He pushes up again, swinging his legs out of the blankets to crisscross them. "But I'm a stupid, cheesy romantic that likes to go out to movies and celebrate Valentine's Day and cuddle and…" He sighs. "And you're a _guy_. It's hard enough shopping for _me_, let alone _you_. I couldn't even picture you dating Erica, so how do I picture _us_ making out? How am I supposed to visualize holding your hand or cuddling up on the couch to watch some dumb chick flick when we haven't even given each other an actually _hug_ before? It's just… It's hard and you're not helping."

Derek is silent for a long time, thinking about what to say. Eventually his head tilts to the side and he squeezes Stiles' hand a little tighter. "We could actually _try_, you know," he says. "All we've talked about is the statistics for it, but it wouldn't hurt to ask _why_ I like white, or even what your favorite color is at all. I've dated people before"—(and even though Kate burned his family, he certainly got experience from it…)—"so it's not going to be any worse dating _you_." He pokes the middle of his chest, and Stiles looks down at where he touched.

"Yeah," he says, looking back up. "Why _is_ your favorite color white? That's not even a color. How boring."

Derek rolls his eyes. "It's because I like snow."

A huge smile spreads across the teens face. "It must suck to live in California, then."

He nods. "Sometimes, yeah. But Peter and I used to go up to the mountains and bound around in our wolf forms—you know, before either of us were alphas." He frowns, looking down at the floor. He really has changed… "You're right, I am a dick."

Stiles laughs, and this time, he's the one squeezing Derek's hand. "Yeah, you are. My favorite color is red."

Derek looks back at him. "Why?"

"Well… It's been my favorite since I was six. My mom used to read me fairy tales before bed, and my favorite was also Red Riding Hood. Epic coincidence, right?" He grins and moves to put his legs back under the blankets. "That's why I'm always wearing that red sweatshirt. She used to call me 'Little Red'."

Derek smiles. He never would have a year ago, either… It's amazing how much one person can change you. The fate's really are pulling a cruel joke on him. "So, if I called you Little Red…?"

"I'd call you the Big Bad Wolf and then Jackson would make role-playing jokes, so let's not."

Derek laughs. He wouldn't have done that—the laughter—before all of this, either. "Alright, just Stiles then."

The teen grins. "And you're just Derek."

Derek nods. "Just Derek."

They just sit there for a second, and then Stiles is frowning. "Wait, what just happened?"

Derek frowns as well, letting go of Stiles' hand under the blankets. "I think we just agreed to try and be boyfriends."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "Ugh, you're right. I'm going to bed." He drops to his pillow. "What a night."

Derek rolls his eyes, moving back to the desk. "I bet. You died, came back to life, and got a boyfriend all in one night."

"God, stop saying it! Danny is going to _kill_ me."

"The one who thinks my name's Miguel?"

"Aw fuck, he thinks you're my cousin… What should my excuse for lying be?"

Derek hums, but mostly he just wants to laugh some more. "Tell him that you didn't want him to think you were keeping him all to yourself."

"That's a terrible idea. I'll think of one myself."

"Suit yourself."

"I _will_."

Derek gives a good natured eye roll and opens the laptop again. "Goodnight, Stiles."

Stiles yawns. "Goodnight, Derek."

* * *

End chapter notes: I was THIS far away from having them just fuck it out when they got back to Stiles' place, but I forced myself to keep it gradual. I tried writing the sex scene out from this and it was just awkward and forced, so you people will just have to wait a little longer. It's okay, I'm waiting with you.  
Anyway! End of chapter 10. Lydia is totally gonna get an exorcism guys. I don't even watch Supernatural but I'm from tumblr so I know everything about it anyway. Not the point, though! What does the bite from the hidebehind do? Only I know! Mwahaha! You'll find out soon enough, don't you worry your pretty little heads.

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	11. The Sort of Secret Relationship

**11: The Sort of Secret Relationship**

Quick note: I accidentally made this chapter super long so it took a little longer, but I've got a feeling you guys won't really care all that much about its length, so I am not apologizing or cutting it in half. Enjoy!

* * *

_STILES  
Tuesday, June 11…_

"Wait, so you guys are dating now?" Scott asks.

Stiles sighs, closing his locker at the end of the day. He's so tired that he can barely breathe. Not because of the bite, either… He barely got two hours of sleep last night. "It's complicated."

"No, I get it," Allison says. He's not sure how her dad hasn't found out about her and Scott dating again yet. "They're accepting that they're going to have to be together as mates and are getting to know each other before they fall in love."

Stiles smiles. "I like your taste in girls, Scott."

Scott rolls his eyes. "I just want to be around when you tell Erica and Isaac."

Stiles cringes a little, remembering how he already told Danny about it. Yes, he used the excuse that Derek suggested, and yes, Danny laughed at him. He believed him, but he still thought it was dumb. He also said something about Jackson owing him ten bucks, but he walked away before Stiles could ask anything about it.

The three of them make their way outside and out to Stiles' Jeep, where Erica, Isaac, and Boyd are already standing. "Heard the news," Isaac says with a smirk.

Erica squeals a little and throws her arms around Stiles' neck. "I _knew_ my plan would work!"

Stiles rolls his eyes and pushes her off. "Yeah, thanks, I'll…" He trails off, though, because Derek's Camaro zooms into a parking spot a few cars away.

"Is it just me," Boyd says, "or does Derek's car look even cooler than usual today?"

Stiles swears he hears AC/DC's "Back in Black" start blearing out across the school as Derek's door opens, and out comes Mr. Badass himself, his teeth shining bright from his smile under his black sunglasses and above the black leather jacket and just beside the stunning black car.

"W-o-w," Isaac says, eyebrows up to his hair. "He _would_ look a thousand times better the moment he's not single."

Stiles swallows tightly and shoves at Isaac's shoulder. "Shut up."

AC/DC fades out as Derek walks over to them, far too many eyes from other people trained dead on him. Instead an embarrassing solo that Stiles had to sing when he was in second grade starts to echo over the entire campus, and Stiles sort of feels like running away.

"Hey," Derek says, pulling his sunglasses off as he stops in front of Stiles.

"Oh my god," Stiles whispers, dragging a hand down his face. "You're totally doing this on purpose."

He laughs. He actually laughs. In public. And he's not drunk. "I might be, yeah."

"I am so not doing this," he says, throwing his arms up and turning around.

"You're really going to break up with me while Danny is watching?"

"Derek!" he says with fake excitement as he spins around and throws his arms around him.

Erica and Isaac giggle lightly, and Boyd smiles as he leans over and kisses Erica on the cheek.

"You two are so _adorable_," Jackson sneers as he and Lydia walk over.

Stiles pushes away from Derek to glare at Jackson. "You seriously can't be nice to me yet? Do you have any idea how many times Scott and I have saved your ass?"

"Too many times to count," Jackson says, "but that doesn't mean I care. Hey, Danny!" he calls to his best friend, waving a bit.

Stiles cringes. "Shit, shit, shit, he's going to make fun of me! Derek, quick, do something impressive!"

Stiles probably should have seen it coming, but no, he totally didn't. Derek grabs his waist and pulls him closer before kissing him, soft and hard and _soft_ and he tastes like ice and fire and for some reason also a bit like peaches and Stiles doesn't even realize that he's gripping onto the front of Derek's shirt until after he's pulling away and he promptly sneezes against his chest and he's not really sure where it came from but Danny is there and totally laughing at him.

"Maybe a little _too_ impressive for you, Stiles?" Scott says as he and Allison is trying really hard not to laugh.

Lydia gives a dainty laugh as she marks the page of her book, _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_. "And in that moment, I swear Stiles was bisexual."

"Heh," Stiles says, scratching the back of his head as Derek keeps an arm around his waist. "Heh-heh. Uh. Hi Danny."

Danny smiles. "Hey." Then, turning the smile up at Derek. "Hey, Miguel. Haven't seen you since that striped shirt that looked terrible on you."

Stiles gives an embarrassed snort, but Derek gives a crooked smile. "Miguel is my middle name, actually." He holds a hand out. "Derek Hale."

Danny's eyes widen a little as he shakes in return. "Oh, a Hale! Wow, haven't seen any of you guys around here in a while. My dad tells me that Peter was an amazing basketball player. He's your uncle, right?"

Derek nods. "Yup, good ole' Uncle Peter."

"Yeah, so how are your nose bleeds? Better?"

Stiles closes his eyes and starts praying that he'll disappear.

"Oh yeah, tons better. I hardly get them at all anymore."

"Good to hear!" He turns to Jackson. "You ready for an A on that project?"

"Definitely," Jackson says, shooting Stiles a pointed smirk. "I'll meet you at my car."

"Good, because I still have to say goodbye to my _own_ boyfriend." He winks at Stiles as he goes passed them.

Stiles waves him goodbye before instantly glaring up at Derek. "I am going to _kill_ you."

Derek has the decency to look a little guilty as he's smiling. "Too far?"

"_Too fucking far_."

"Good," he says, the guilt gone. "You have homework in the only class you're failing and I happen to have gotten an A in it way back when I took it, so I'm coming over to help. I'll meet you at your place." And he walks back to his car.

"Oh, Stiles," Erica says soothingly, patting his head. "Don't give him that look. Even if it was to embarrass you, you just got Derek to show more emotion in five minutes than he has in the last five years."

"Except when he was drunk," Isaac says.

"When who was drunk?" a new voice asks, and all of them turn to see Bianca and Milo walking towards them.

Milo smiles. "You mean Dere—whoa, Stiles, are you okay? Your face looks really sunburnt."

Stiles groans and covers his face.

"That's a blush, Milo," Bianca says, elbowing him. "Did we miss something?"

"You did indeed," Lydia says snippily. Obviously she doesn't like the sirens very much. They're only giving so much time before they try to get her killed, after all… "Stiles and Derek are officially trying out the whole boyfriend thing."

"Ooh," Bianca says. "That's not a pair I saw coming even _with_ the whole mate thing."

Milo slings an arm around Stiles' shoulders. "Embracing mates, eh? Scott and Allison told me about it after you guys left last night."

Stiles shoves everyone away from him. "I am _leaving_!" he says loudly. "I am going home and feeding my demon cat and doing my homework and I am _not_ letting Derek help me." He stomps away, feeling the burn in his face slowly draining away. "Mother fucking werewolves," he mutters, swinging into his car. "I'm going to murder him."

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

Yeah, so maybe Derek did go a little far with the whole thing, but he doesn't regret a second of it. He's happy to see that the sheriff isn't home yet when he parks across the street, so he whistles for Spandex to come from wherever she is in the forest.

She comes running down the street from his left, so Derek quick gets her into Stiles' window so nobody sees her in such broad daylight. He hears Stiles' Jeep pull up to the house as he's putting the last turkey in, glad that there haven't been any _human_ casualties yet (Stiles doesn't count since he came back to life), but that's probably not going to last very much longer—unless the banshees are only set on gaining the spirit of Sadb and recruiting Stiles and Spandex, but the hidebehinds still have to eat as well. There's been less dead animals around, so maybe they started to consume all of the ones they killed already.

"You _asshole_!" Stiles yells as he comes through the front door.

Derek laughs, pulling out the bread for sandwiches. "You would have done the exact same thing if I was still in school."

"It's not just that!" he says as he walks into the kitchen, dropping down to pet Spandex. "It's bound to get around to everyone, and that means that the entire school knows I'm dating the once alleged murderer Derek Hale, and _then_ it's going to get back to my dad. I don't care if he knows I'm dating you, but it is going to suck a _lot_ to explain to him _why_ we are."

"I'll help with that," Derek says as he pulls out a can of tuna. "Do you eat this?"

"Tuna? Uh, yeah, if it's mixed with mayonnaise."

"I didn't think you'd eat it plain, but thanks for the clarification."

"Yeah, total—" He waves his hands around. "I'm not done being mad at you!"

Derek smirks at him before turning back to the food. "I'll let you keep being mad if you go set your homework out on the table."

Stiles sighs and mutters something about Derek being his dad now, but he does grab up his backpack and go sit at the table to set everything out.

"Do you guys have anything besides water?" Derek asks as he grabs some glasses out.

"How do you know where everything in my house is?" Stiles asks. "And yes, there's some OJ in the fridge."

Derek frowns at Stiles' question as he pours the juice into the glasses. "I…don't know."

"Maybe it's a mate thing," Stiles says, flitting his wrist as he starts on his math. "You've tapped into my memories and know where everything is or something."

"Maybe," Derek says as he sets the food and drinks down before sitting down beside him. He tries to remember what math class students take in their sophomore year… Is it Algebra two or geometry? He was in geometry, but math is that one class where you're placed higher up if you're better at it. Or is that English? God, it's been a long time since high school. He frowns to himself as he chews a bite of sandwich. Stiles is a sixteen year old sophomore who's not going to turn seventeen for year three months more. Derek is a twenty-three year old werewolf with a power complex and enough money to last him and Peter for the rest of their lives. He and Stiles are totally illegal right now.

"Fuck," he says matter-of-factly, setting his sandwich down.

Stiles frowns up at him. "What's wrong?"

"It's going to be a lot worse than just explaining why we're dating if your dad finds out," he says.

"What could possibly be worse than explaining it to the sheriff?"

"Being _arrested_ by the sheriff, maybe? Stiles, you're not eighteen yet—you're not even _seventeen_ yet. It's _illegal_ for us to be dating."

Stiles pales a little bit. "Shit, I didn't even think of that. You kissed me in front of everybody! If he wasn't going to find out before, the teachers are bound to, and then they'll call the police station and get you arrested! I don't want you to be a fugitive again. It was annoying."

"We better call everyone and tell them to keep it a secret, then."

He sighs, pulling out his cell phone. "You can use the house phone so we narrow the list down. You get your pack and I'll get Scott's and Danny. I hope it was worth embarrassing me in front of everyone."

Derek grins as he gets up to pick up the cordless house phone. "Trust me, it was."

**XxX**

"WE'RE DONE!" Stiles sings as he closes his chemistry book. "Our relationship is a secret and my homework is _done_!"

Derek glances at the clock on Stiles' phone. "There's still time to watch a movie before your dad gets back."

Stiles mashes his lips together. "What movie?"

"I was going to let you choose. You've chosen some good ones for Lydia's place so far."

"Yeah, alright. I am so using you as a pillow, by the way."

"I figured you would."

They make their way into the living room, Spandex chowing on the turkey in the backyard and their own dishes in the sink.

"This is our hard copy selection," Stiles says, opening a cupboard, "but we've also got Netflix."

Derek hums as he squats down to look them over. "What's your favorite movie?" he asks.

"Uh, Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World. What's yours?"

"The Blob."

Stiles squats down beside him with a quizzical look. "You mean that nineteen-eighty-eight horror movie about jelly eating people alive?"

Derek frowns. "Well, when you put it that way, maybe it isn't so great."

"No, it was still pretty good. Totally not scary, but good. Steve McQueen, right?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Why's it your favorite?"

"Because I don't believe in aliens."

Stiles raises an eyebrow and sits down all the way. "I don't get it."

Derek nods and sits down beside him, going through the movies as he speaks: "I've run into a lot of things in my years as a werewolf, like kanimas and mishibijw's and hidebehinds and banshees. I tend not to believe in things until I see them, but that doesn't mean I don't dispute them. If somebody tells me that the zombie apocalypse is upon us I'm not going to laugh and go back to bed, I'm going to stock up on food and grab some of the Argent's guns. Aliens, though…" He shrugs. "I just can't make myself believe in them. Even if I saw them I wouldn't believe they had come from outer space, I would think they had crawled out of the ocean or the middle of a mountain. Do you know how many incidents we've had where we think that an alien ship has landed up it turns out to be a man made device that fell out of the sky in another country? Unless I end up in space myself, I'm just not going to believe in it."

Stiles nods and gives him a _not bad_ sort of look. "Deep," he says. "I just like mine because it's funny."

Derek smiles as he puts all the movies back. There are lots of good ones, but he still wants Stiles to choose it. The kid wants cheesy romance, he'll get his damn cheesy romance. "That's your all time favorite, but what's your favorite _chick flick_?"

He buzzes his lips. "It's a tie between 13 Going on 30 and Mean Girls."

"I've ever seen that first one."

Stiles gives him a huge smile. "Cuddling with ice cream it is." He jumps up. "Get some bowls of the vanilla ice cream in the freezer, would you? There's chocolate syrup in the fridge, too. I'm gonna get it up on Netflix."

Derek walks into the kitchen to see Spandex staring in through the sliding glass door and the turkey carcass behind her, so he gives a good natured eye roll before letting her in and then shoving the tattered bird into a bush, not exactly sure where else it should go.

Everything is as easy to find as before, but he's not exactly sure how much chocolate syrup Stiles wants, so he just drowns the ice cream and hopes for the best. Back in the living room, Stiles is flopped over the entire couch as he uses his Xbox controller to click through Netflix.

"Oh good," he says, sitting up. "I love a little ice cream with my chocolate syrup."

Derek honestly can't tell if Stiles is being sarcastic or not—so much to the point that the teens heartbeat doesn't even flutter.

Stiles eventually laughs, standing up. "I'm kidding," he says. "I just stir it up anyway. Just set them on the coffee table. I'm gonna change into pajamas." He frowns. "Shame you're so much bigger than I am or I could give you a pair of sweats."

"I've got a pair in my trunk, actually."

Stiles raises an eyebrow as he moves towards the stairs. "You just keep an extra pair in your car?"

Derek smirks as he moves to the door. "No, I thought ahead." He moves outside before Stiles can say anything, but he still hears the teen's heartbeat rise. He just can't help egging him on a bit. Virgin's are so cute.

He gets back inside before Stiles is back down, so he changes in the guest bathroom. Stiles clomps down as Derek comes out, holding out a long sleeve grey shirt.

"Forgot this last time," he says.

"Oh right." He takes it, and as Stiles walks passed him in sweats and an old t-shirt, Derek quick strips his own off and changes into the grey thing. He can smell that Stiles has washed it, thankfully.

"Alright, we're all ready," Stiles says. "We have two hours until my dad gets back at ten, and the movie is shorter than that. Plenty a' time!" He flops onto the couch again.

Derek smiles and shoves at him. "Gotta share, kid."

Stiles rolls his eyes as he sits up. "Right, yeah, so I know you're seven years older than me, but if you call me kid one more time I'm going to try really hard to physically hurt you."

Derek sits down in the opposite corner. "I guess it is creepy enough that we're illegal."

Stiles starts to move to play the movie, but Derek frowns and stops him: "What happened to being a big cuddler?"

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "You _want_ to cuddle?"

"I'm just saying that you said there would be cuddling and ice cream if we watched this movie."

Stiles nods and picks up the bowls. "Not at the same time, though." He hands Derek the one with less chocolate. "Eat first, figure out comfortable movie watching positions later."

The movie is entertaining enough. Another young human girl who thinks that being popular is the only way of life and the poor best friend is stuck in the back. At least her adult look is cute.

Stiles pauses the movie when they're done with their ice cream, though, and says, "My dad is going to question why there are two of everything, so I'm going to quick do your dishes so he'll only think that mine were used."

Derek follows him in, noticing that the counters are actually piled pretty high with dishes. "Do you want any help?"

"With dishes?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, if you want. I fucking hate dishes."

"I like dishes," Derek says, piling them closer to the washer. "It takes my mind off things."

"Why, because you're touching three day old food that's wet from the sink and staring to mold?"

He smiles. "Basically."

"I'm more of a laundry kind of guy. When my mom was still alive I would crawl into the dryer the moment it got done with the clothes and burry myself in them until they got cold. My mom has pulled me out more than once and almost peed her pants because she thought she was just going to be putting clothes away."

Derek smiles. "Really?"

"Yes really! Come on, what did you used to do as a kid? My mom read me stories and dug me out of dryers; what'd you used to do? All I ever hear about is stuff that you've done with Peter."

Derek gives a sad smile. His mother… The most powerful alpha anyone around had ever heard of and she got burned up in a basement. Figures. "Just…you know, wolf stuff. She'd teach me how to run across buildings and we'd howl at the moon and shit. Very boring."

"No, that sounds fun for a family of wolves." He takes his hand. "Come on, I wanna finish this before my dad gets back. What sort of music do you like?"

"Rock and…promise you won't laugh?"

"After today? I ain't promisin' shit."

Derek nods in approval. He wouldn't either. "I listen to dubstep, too."

Stiles definitely laughs, collapsing onto the couch. "_You_ listen to _dubstep_? I mean, _I_ listen to dubstep, and sometimes _Scott_ listens to dubstep, but _you_ do?"

"Alright, alright." He rolls his eyes and plops down beside him. "It's not that funny."

"It's pretty damn funny."

Derek shoves at his shoulder, but he's smiling. He knows he's been doing a lot of that lately, and he also knows that it's because of Stiles. They're not mates for nothing. For werewolves it's literally short for soul mates. He can't believe he actually tried to deny it before. He can't just jump into it, though… Mostly for Stiles' sake, but also for the fact that he's definitely not in love with the kid yet. It's going to take a lot for Derek to be ready for that. A lot. Doesn't mean he's not going to embarrass the teen in the meantime, though.

"Alright," Stiles says, hands on his hips. "I've, uh… The only person I've ever cuddled with is Erica and I don't think she counts."

Derek frowns. "How do you know if you like it so much if you haven't even had a proper one?"

He blushes a little. "I guess I just watch the right movies."

Derek laughs, grabbing Stiles' hands and yanking him closer as he drops onto his back. "Stiles, you'd be bottom for a _girl_."

Stiles lands on his chest with a bit of a _wumph_, but the teen manages a grin. "That'd be fine," he says. "Boobs above me or below me, I do not care."

Derek scuffs up his hair. He likes it better this length; the bit that's styled to stick up in the front is cute. "I'd like to apologize in advance for the fact that I don't have any, then."

Stiles shrugs. "You may not have lumps of fat that somehow control the entire world's population, but you still have a very nice chest."

Derek raises an eyebrow. "The _entire_ world's population?"

"Dude, come on, even gay guys like boobs. Even if they're not attracted to them, you can't beat squeezing one every now and again."

"Stiles, you are literally the biggest virgin to ever virgin and you're trying to show off your knowledge about boobs. Shut up."

"What? I am not the biggest virgin to ever virgin! Isaac is a virgin!"

"Isaac has gotten a blow job."

"I've gotten a hand job!"

"Jerking off doesn't count."

"Whatever, like _you've_ gotten a hand job."

Derek blinks a bit. He hasn't, actually. "The fact that I've had sex makes that information pointless, I think."

Stiles groans and drops his forehead onto Derek's chest. "You win," he mutters.

"Good." He rolls onto his side, Stiles going with him. "Get comfortable. I want to finish this."

They end up just spooning on the couch, which is something that Derek has done before, but… Suddenly he can't just laugh about it anymore. He's not embarrassing him in front of Danny or helping him with his homework or making fun of his virginity. He's got his arm around his waist and Stiles' head is on his other arm as it's hanging over the edge of the couch and the teen even has a leg between both of Derek's. It's all fun and games until somebody loses an eye, and Derek is pretty sure that he's very soon going to lose both.

On the other hand, Spandex looks very comfortable curled up at the foot of the TV.

"You are getting _married_," Stiles hisses as Matt leans down and kisses Jenna after their leaps off the swings.

"Don't be too hard on them," Derek says, leaning over his shoulder. "They're in love, remember?"

He glances up before rolling his eyes. "I'm just glad I know the ending."

Said ending comes soon after that, and Derek can't help but find it adorable. It shouldn't be that hard to believe that he can see things as "adorable", right? He's got feelings, he just doesn't show them. He's told Stiles that multiple times.

"And _that_ is my favorite chick flick!" Stiles says, rolling onto his back beside Derek. "Mark Ruffalo played Bruce Banner in the Avenger movie, you know? Shame they couldn't get the same actor from the Incredible Hulk, but—"

Derek cuts him off: "Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?"

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "You seriously think nobody has ever told me that?"

Derek swallows before kissing him. The first one was "something impressive", but…now it's a secret. Now it's just them, stuck on a couch after ice cream and a cute chick flick with cute actors. This one is real.

He feels Stiles' hesitance and the way his heart speeds up like a rocket, but his hands come up anyway, one gripping the front of Derek's shirt and the other moving to the back of his neck. Something about it makes everything…louder and quieter all at once. It's dull, but it's the loudest thing he's ever heard. He hears labored breathing and beating hearts and fingers against fabric and skin and somehow even the soft press of lips against another and… Rolling tires?

He snaps up, looking over at the door. "Your dad's home."

Stiles scrambles up. "Quick, upstairs!" he whispers frantically. "Spandex, you too!"

Derek and the mishibijw sprint upstairs to Stiles' bedroom as the teen spins around in circles, either panicking or making sure that everything is in place. By the speed of his heart, it's both.

Derek watches the sheriff walk up to the house before he moves back to the cracked open door to listen in.

"Oh, dad, hey," Stiles says innocently, but his heartbeat betrays him—thankfully only to Derek. "I just finished a movie. About to head up to bed. How was work?"

"Heyuh, kiddo. It was fine. The usual. No more dead bodies."

"Oh, that's great! I mean, it sucks that Matt had to die for them to stop, but at least they _have_ stopped."

"Yes, at least they have You're heading to bed, then? I think I'm gonna hit it, too." He starts clomping up the stairs. "Don't forget to turn the TV off."

"Kay, dad. Sleep well."

Stiles flies as silent as any human can up the stairs as soon as his dad shuts his bedroom door, a hand over his mouth to stem his laughter. "That was so close," he whispers as he tries to get his breathing to slow.

"It wasn't any sort of close," Derek whispers, rolling his eyes. "Close is if I hadn't heard the car."

"Well it was closer for the fact that he's my _dad_. It's stressful." He looks at Spandex. "Maybe you should go to the lake tonight, 'Dex."

The mishibijw growls a little.

Stiles shrugs, moving toward the bed. "Suit yourself." He flops face first and mumbles something into his pillow.

"Hmm?" Derek says, crawling on beside him.

He lifts his head as he rolls over a bit. "I said that there's enough room for both of us if we continue to have no personal space issues."

Derek kicks the blankets down so he can fluff it over them. "Personal space is usually a bid deal to me unless I'm threatening somebody, but I suppose I'm going to have to rethink that policy."

"Good, because you really are warm."

Stiles initiates their third kiss, and even so, Derek is surprised by it. He's tentative and yet forceful; he's going to be the pushiest bottom to ever bottom and Derek has a feeling that he's going to thrive on it. His hands are soft around Derek's neck, pulling them hard against each other. Their legs tangle up and with the blankets, pulling them mostly off of how Derek had fluffed them over their abdomens as well. Maybe it's just the mate side of him talking, but Stiles tastes like silver and gold and maybe a little bit of chocolate from earlier and even now Derek can't get enough of it.

He pushes Stiles' mouth lightly open, and the teen sucks in a breath as Derek slides his tongue over the roof of his mouth. His hands shift a little, one hand sliding more into Derek's hair and the other gripping at his shoulder. Derek's hands are currently occupied holding himself above the teen, but if given the opportunity he'll gladly use them. Even if the thought that he's actually kissing _Stiles_ is a little weird, he's still turned on. Derek spends almost all of his free time making sure that he stays in shape so he can get away from the hunters, and he knows that Stiles doesn't, so the fact that he's as toned as he is is impressive enough.

"Derek?" Stiles whispers.

Derek pulls away just far enough that they're not kissing, but their lips still brush. "Yeah?"

"Remember what I said about your chest?"

Derek doesn't finish the conversation; he just leans up on his knees, careful not to crush the teen, and pulls his shirt over his head.

Stiles groans and covers his eyes. "Never mind, put it back on."

Derek laughs, dropping his hands back to either side of Stiles' head. "We'll tan on the warehouse roof the next time it's sunny _and_ we're not in mortal danger."

Stiles peeks out from between fingers. "It's just not that."

Derek leans down and rubs his nose across his cheek. "Then what is it?"

"You're just so much more _attractive_ than me. You're bigger. People like bigger. What if I don't get any taller?"

"Stiles, I'm barely two inches taller than you."

"But you're so much wider!"

Derek gives a good natured eye roll and slides his nose over the top of Stiles' ear. "So what if you're smaller than me? It puts you at a very convenient height to listen to my heartbeat if you wanted to."

Stiles moves his hands from his face, just resting them on Derek's back. "That's true…"

Derek senses a shift in his mood, so he pulls away to frown at him. "What are you thinking about?" he asks.

Stiles sighs. "Just the fact about my being turned, you know? The sirens want it to happen, and obviously you guys can't always protect me since I got bit by Fela anyway… I just want to know what I'm going to become _before_ it happens. I don't want to wake up after the bite from something and finger feathers growing out of nails and tentacles for whiskers. I'm not asking you to bite me to just get it out of the way, but it just sucks a bit."

Derek gives an understanding look. "Obviously I don't know exactly how you feel, but I do get it. I can't follow you around school and you don't have every class with someone, but I'm certainly not going to leave your side when it's in my power. Maybe you won't have to be turned after all."

"That'd be nice, but at the same time… How are we going to destroy Sadb's spirit if I don't get into something that can control the hidebehinds?"

"She's not a full banshee, remember? Julia said that Spandex is related to the hidebehinds, so maybe we could just use her."

"Speaking of which…" Stiles starts to sit up, so Derek rocks back on his heels to sit at the end of the bed. Spandex is curled up in the corner of the room behind the door, facing away from the bed.

Stiles chuckles and flops back down. "I wouldn't want to watch us make out either."

It's easy leaning down to kiss Stiles now—still weird, but easy. The teen puts his fingers against Derek's chest like he's going to try and pull him closer by his shirt, but since his shirt is currently on the floor, his fingers end up just splaying out over his chest and tracing. His heartbeat is so loud that it's as if its Derek's own, the blood pumping in his ears like a bass.

Derek puts his weight on one hand and his knees so he can move his left down Stiles' side, soaking in the teens shivers until he's gripping onto his hip, followed by moving a leg to kneel between Stiles' legs. He keeps it a few inches away from anything vital, though. One step at a time.

Stiles exhales deeply when Derek pushes his tongue in passed his lips, and Derek decides to hell with a single step. He pulls his knee forward all the way and nips at Stiles' bottom lip, and he's pretty sure that the teen actually choke a little when he gasps.

Derek can't help but breathe a laugh, and Stiles mutters at him to shut up as he trails his lips down his neck to suck at his collar bone.

"Don't give me a hicky," Stiles says raggedly. He sounds wrecked and Derek hasn't even gotten Stiles' shirt off yet. This is getting to be far too much fun. "If my dad sees it he won't rest until he gets a name, and it's just passed scarf season."

Derek hums. "Only two more years of this," he says.

Stiles laughs and turns his head to kiss his cheek. "Less than one. I can be seventeen. Wait, no, that's for New York… Yeah, I have to be eighteen."

"Precisely." He bites lightly at his earlobe. "And speaking of your dad, we should probably save anything drastic for when he's _not_ sleeping in the hallway and can easily be woken up."

He hears the teens heart jump as he swallows tightly. "Yeah, I'm, uh…not yet, anyway."

Derek smiles and kisses the top of his ear before leaning up. "You're still scared of bottoming, aren't you?"

Stiles blushes furiously and covers his face. "No."

Derek laughs and pulls his hands away before pinning them down. "I know it's going to hurt at first, but it's the same for a female. You wait out the first pain and then everything starts to feel good. Like Milo said, everything has to get worse before it gets better."

Stiles chews on the inside of his cheek, eyes thoughtful. Eventually he frowns. "How would _you_ know? Have _you_ ever subbed?"

"No, but I know others who have. Ask Danny."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "Danny is a bottom?"

"He's been both It depends what kind of guy he's with. Usually, though, he does sub."

"Okay, fine, so you know that it only hurts at first. How do you know that about Danny, though? When have you ever even talked to him?"

"I don't have to talk to him to know about him. Wolf senses, remember?"

"You can sniff people and instantly know what _sex position_ they were in last?" He sits up, forcing Derek to roll onto the bed beside him. "Can you tell anything about me?" He grabs Derek's face. "What did I have for breakfast this morning?!"

"Stiles, good god, shut up." He takes his hands and weaves their fingers together as he holds them in Stiles' lap. "You had Lucky Charms, but I only know that because you told me while we were working on your chemistry homework. I meant senses as in my heightened sense of _hearing_. I've overheard him talking to whatever boyfriend he's got at the time."

"He's only had two boyfriends this school year."

"Then I've overheard him with those two."

Stiles nods, looking down at their hands. "Is it a werewolf thing to be so warm all the time?"

"Yes, but within reason. We still have to wear jackets when it's cold out. This isn't Twilight."

Stiles grins back up at him. "You mean vampires don't actually sparkle?"

"Do not even get me _started_ on those vampires… They can't go into the sun or they'll burst into flames; they can't even come out on a full moon since it's just the sun's reflection. She did get the not having to sleep, though."

"Ugh, I don't want to talk about this anymore. You really don't think it's going to be that bad?"

"For a couple of seconds, yes, but I guarantee that it gets better. You really could talk to Danny about it. He's a good friend. He'd be a great beta; very loyal."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Not everything is about werewolves, you know."

Derek tilts his head a little. "It is for a werewolf, and it is for one that runs with them. That's why we're here. Because we're making this work before we're forced to."

Stiles grins. "Good at it as you are, it's really weird kissing you. I almost had a heart attack when you got me at school."

Derek smiles. "I know. I could hear it."

He cringes a little. "Has it been that bad the whole time?"

"Pretty much, but that's normal. Any sort of consented sexual activity causes the heart to race like that."

"We were just making out, though."

Derek gives him a dull look. "Is that why you've got a tent in your sweats?"

Stiles blushes again and yanks his hands away from Derek to try and cover it. "You've got one too," he mumbles.

"But _I'm_ not going to try and hide it. You had your hands all over my chest, too."

"Excuse me for thinking you have a nice chest."

Derek smirks before leaning forward and kissing him, and Stiles laughs a little before kissing him back. Derek reaches down to loop his fingers under the hemline of Stiles' shirt, pulling it up and over his head. The teen shivers as Derek pushes him onto his back again, splaying his fingers out. He's really not as pale as he thinks he is; he just is when next to Derek.

He suddenly gets an idea. "Does your bed squeak?"

"Um…" Stiles swallows tightly. "Sometimes."

"Does the floor squeak?" Obviously not, but he's not trying to be subtle.

"Um…no?"

"How quiet can you be?"

Stiles' heart skips. "I…I don't know, it depends."

"How quiet can you be if your dad is sleeping a couple of rooms down and your boyfriend's going to get arrested if you're caught?"

He stumbles over senseless words for a second, so Derek leans down and kisses him harder, making it momentarily impossible for Stiles to say anything at all. When he pulls away to breathe, though, the teen braces his hands against Derek's chest to try and keep him away.

"What are you trying to say?"

Derek raises an innocent eyebrow. "Nothing."

Stiles groans, shoving him away completely. Derek could have used his strength to stay, but he just laughs and rolls over, and then he keeps going until his legs swing up and he's standing beside the bed.

Stiles glares up at him. "You're tall and it's annoying."

Derek holds his arms out. "Come here."

Stiles frowns. "Why?"

"Because I asked you to."

He smiles. "Fine, but only because you _asked_ instead of yanked me over yourself." He swings his legs off and stands in front of him. "Now what?"

"No we move the bed onto the floor."

Stiles frowns. "Wait, but I said I—"

"Don't think so hard, Stiles," Derek says, rolling his eyes as he pulls the blankets off of the bed. "Think less than that."

While Stiles is left slightly broken as he tries not to think so hard, Derek sets the bed up on the floor. Moving papers aside, and then putting the blanket and pillow down.

"Oh my god," Stiles whispers very loudly as Derek is standing up from the pillow. "Are you going to give me a _blowjob_?"

Derek grins and pulls him over to stand at the end of the floor bed with him. "Yup." He kisses the teen before he can say anything else, his hands at the button and zipper of his jeans. Stiles is breathing heavy, but he's not stopping Derek, his hands tight around his neck as he pushes up on his tiptoes. He even helps Derek out by stepping out of his sweats and boxers when they drop to the floor, kicking them off to the side.

Never breaking the kiss, Derek gets them down on the blankets, gripping onto his hips.

"Derek," Stiles says against his mouth. "I don't know if—"

"Shh," Derek whispers. "I'm not going to bite it off; just close your eyes."

The teen swallows and nods. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

When Derek leans away to move down, Stiles indeed has his eyes closed—actually, he's got his hands over his face again. Derek has to resist the urge to laugh; Stiles is already self-conscious enough, he doesn't need to think that Derek is laughing at him for any other reason. In fact, he wouldn't be laughing anyway. He's not XXL, but even if Derek was the one taking anything, that would probably be too much—not to mention harder to give blowjobs to. He's perfect.

Derek kisses one of Stiles' inner thighs to somewhat warn him before he drags his tongue up his length, but it's completely pointless, because Stiles sits straight up, eyes wide.

"There is no way I'm going to be quiet enough not to wake my dad," he chokes out.

Derek smirks at him, leaning up just enough to kiss the bottom of his chin. He's the love language of physical touch, after all. "Use a shirt as a chew toy."

"What? No, that's weird, that's—"

Derek drops down and flicks his tongue out across the head.

Stiles chokes a little. "Okay, yeah, that's totally happening. Where is one?"

Derek grabs up the long sleeve grey shirt and hands it to him, and he gives Stiles one last kiss before pushing him back down and then dropping his own head down. He's not really watching Stiles as he works, but he can hear him moaning unabashedly into the balled up shirt and gritting his teeth. Derek hasn't given enough blowjobs to be _that_ good at them, but being that Stiles has nothing to compare them to, it's not really a big deal.

Eventually—not too long, really, which Derek expected—Stiles reaches the top, and Derek is glad that his werewolf senses catch it, because the teen gives a terrible warning. He sucks until he's swallowed all of it, and Stiles instantly sits up, his arms and legs shaking slightly.

"Uh…" the teen says with a cough. "Thanks."

Derek breathes a laugh and kisses him, knocking him backwards again.

"Oi," Stiles mutters, pulling away just a little. "Does it really taste like that?"

Derek shrugs. "It's not as fun when it's your own."

Stiles licks his lips. "Do you want me t—"

He kisses him quiet again. "Not tonight," he says. "You need to sleep."

Stiles looks a little putt off for a second, like he actually wants to, but eventually he nods. "Do you want to stay on the floor?"

"Comfortable as your floor is, it's been a long time since I've slept in a real bed."

Stiles smiles. "The bed it is, then."

Stiles yanks his sweats on and then the nearest shirt, and Derek doesn't really feel like telling him that it's the t-shirt he was wearing before he changed into the grey one. It's huge on him, but that's probably what makes it cute.

"Derek?" Stiles whispers as they fluff the blankets over them.

"Mmm?"

"Can I…" He averts his eyes. "Can I listen to your heartbeat?"

Derek doesn't even resist the urge to kiss him. "If you want to," he says after it.

Derek ends up on his back with one half of Stiles draped over him but for the fact that his whole head is using his chest as a pillow.

"It's soothing," the teen says at length.

Derek smiles, wrapping an arm around him. "Goodnight, Stiles."

Stiles hums a little. "Night, 'Rek."

Derek frowns. Did Stiles just…give him a nickname? Oh boy.

* * *

End chapter notes: Alright, end of chapter 11! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW EXCITED I WAS FOR THIS CHAPTER. Seriously I mean come on 120 pages and they haven't even kissed yet? Talk about lame. But, as Isaac Bashevis Singer once said, _"The characters have their own lives and their own logic, and you have to act accordingly."_

And lastly…somebody please give me something that Derek can refer to Stiles as besides "the teen". I mean good lord it's getting out of hand and it'd be awkward for him to constantly think "blah blah the boy who runs with wolves blah blah" because it's long and then Stiles doesn't like "the kid" when Derek is being serious or I guess "the human" works but ugh. K thanks bye again

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	12. Broken Trust

**12: Broken Trust**

_STILES  
Wednesday, June 12…_

When Stiles wakes up the following morning, he's not very happy to find that he's alone. He smiles, though, when he sees a folded note on the shelves connected to his bed. He's never really seen Derek's handwriting before, but it's a very tidy scrawl that Stiles probably would have mistaken for a girls.

_Morning.. Peter needed me for some exorcism things, so you'll find that both Isaac and Scott are currently passed out on your floor.  
_  
Stiles looks over the bed and, yeah, they totally are. Body guards. How nice.

_I'll come over again tonight, and it'd be great if you could text Peter your dad's schedule for the day. I know you slept well because you wouldn't let go of me when I tired to leave. Both Isaac and Scott know about last night, by the way. They could smell it right away. I slept well too, but they don't need to know that part. Also, I let Spandex out so she could use the bathroom and then told her to take to the forest. You can whistle for her when you wake up if you feel the need. —D  
_  
Stiles looks over at his clock. He has ten minutes before the alarm goes off before school. Derek Hale gave him a blowjob last night. He is definitely going to have to talk to Danny. But first, a text to Peter.

He manages to sneak passed both of his new guard dogs and over to the bathroom, deciding he'll just get ready now instead of have to right away deal with the embarrassment his friends are bound to give him—or just questions, because this is _Derek_ they're talking about, and Derek is alpha. That makes Stiles kind of like the female alpha, right? Weird.

Stiles decides to take a shower first, and he hears his bedroom alarm go off as he's under the spray. Nobody barges into the bathroom, though, and he's thankful for that. Stiles didn't bring any clothes to change into in with him, so he just pulls his sweats back on and then picks up the t-shirt to… He frowns, holding it out to look it over. This is definitely not his shirt. It's huge and sort of grey-blue-ish, with three dark blue buttons coming down from the middle of the neckline. Wait a minute, is this Derek's?

Before he can finish his thought, Scott and Isaac burst through the doors with the biggest grins that Stiles has ever seen in his life. "OOOOOHH!" they say loudly, continuously poking him.

"I know, I know!" Stiles yells, running passed them and into his room. "Shut up!"

"Come on, Stiles," Isaac says, flopping onto his bed as Scott closes the door. "You got a blowjob from _Derek_? Do you have any idea what that means?"

Stiles raises an eyebrow as he picks out clothes. "That we're _dating_?"

Scott nods. "He's got a point."

"Fine, whatever, it means you're dating," Isaac says, sitting up. "It's just weird."

"Trust me," Stiles says as he pulls on a t-shirt that actually fits him. "I know."

Scott steps up right beside him anyway. "_How_ weird?"

Stiles groans. Definitely going to need to talk to Danny.

**XxX**

Stiles steals the chemistry seat beside Danny before Jackson has a chance to. "Danny, yo, I need to talk to you."

Danny raises an eyebrow. "Um, alright. What's up?"

"I need your help."

His gay friend smiles. "_I_ get it."

"Hey now, no laughing, you got to do plenty of that yesterday."

"Fine, fine. What do you need help with?"

"I just have a couple of questions about…stuff."

Danny nods and scoots his stool closer to Stiles' so they can whisper easier. Stiles is glad that he happened to choose a table in the back today. "Obviously Derek is not a sub, so you're wondering about bottoming, right?"

Stiles is actually able to force himself not to blush. "Yeah, basically. Just…pain and stuff. How long it lasts and how bad it is."

Danny gives a good natured eye roll. "Virgins are adorable."

"You said you weren't going to laugh anymore!"

"Sorry. Sort of. Since it is your first time, though, it's going to be a lot more uncomfortable. It stings a little, and probably for a little longer than it would a girl, but the pain is completely different. It only hurts if he doesn't stretch you first."

Stiles frowns. "Stretch me?"

Danny holds a hand up and wiggles his fingers. "Stretch you," he repeats.

Stiles wrinkles his nose up. "Oh."

Danny breathes a laugh, careful to keep it quite while their devil of a teacher is...well, teaching. "Like I said, it's going to be uncomfortable at first, but I can guarantee that you'll get over it really fast." He pats him on the back. "You got nothin' to worry about it."

Stiles sucks in a deep breath. "You're sure?"

"I'm positive. Oh, and tell me when you get around to it. I'll want to make fun of you more." He winks.

Stiles just rolls his eyes, though. "Thanks, Danny."

"Yeah, anytime."

"Um…how are you and _your_ boyfriend doing?"

Danny smiles and looks down at what he's absentmindedly doodling in his notebook. "Good."

Stiles grins, elbowing him lightly. "Glad to hear it."

**XxX**

Stiles is all set to go home and do his homework after school, but instead, he gets a text from Peter that says he needs Stiles and Lydia to come to the warehouse and that nobody else should come with them. Obviously it's about the exorcism thing, and Stiles is needed for the fact that he's meant to be turned.

He tells Lydia about it, who gives an eye roll before moving to get into the passenger side of his Jeep, and they bid their friends farewell before heading out. Stiles parks behind old junk like usual so nobody can see the vehicle from the read, and then he and Lydia swing out before heading down into the warehouse.

"It's a good thing we don't have lacross practice anymore," Stiles says as they start moving down the stairs. "We'd have to—"

"Oh my _god_!" Lydia yells. Not as loud as she could be, but still pretty damn loud.

Stiles panics wildly for a spit second, and that's all it takes before he sees what she's yelling about. On the far side of the room, bound to chairs with the same satin rope that Stiles and Lydia were, are Peter and Derek. All of the sirens but Bianca are all standing around them, Mason with a knife to Peter's throat and Emma with one to Derek's. Both of the wolves are awake and in their werewolf forms.

"What the hell?" Stiles yells, jumping down to the bottom of the stairs. "You said we could trust you guys!"

"You're taking too long," Julia says matter-of-factly, examining her red nails. "There are no exorcisms that have been tested on banshees, and we have no guarantee that Sadb's spirit won't get away."

Peter growls. "That's why we were—"

Mason cuts him off by slicing a cut along his throat. Peter growls deeper as it begins to heal.

"No, stop," Stiles says, keeping Lydia behind him. "What was he trying to say?"

Julia nods at Mason, and he removes the knife from his throat. Peter gives an aggravated sigh. "We found the exorcism that we need to use, but it's taking longer because we're also trying to find something that can catch the spirit once it's released! The mishibijw will be able to destroy it after that."

The leader of the five sirens scoffs. "There's nothing that can hold a spirit, you imbecile."

"A body can," Lydia says, stepping around Stiles. "What if we don't need the exorcism at all? Stiles told me that, while I was unconscious, you couldn't harm me because I kept going into the spirit form. What if you put me under and have Spandex claw at me then. Will she kill me as well, or will I break out of my spirit form the moment she's dead and then be free?"

Julia glances down at Peter and Derek (why haven't they tried to get out of the ropes? They could break out of them in a single snap—especially Derek as an alpha!) before looking around at her sirens. "It's plausible," she says at length. "We don't really care if you die or not, though, so it doesn't matter to us if you want to try it or not."

Stiles grabs Lydia's hand before she can move any closer. "Careful," he says. "They'll try and kill you now."

"We can't, remember?" Milo says, walking down from where she was standing on the steps into the subway car. "She'll pass out and go all ghostly. She can't protect herself while conscious."

Stiles pushes Lydia behind him again, and this time she doesn't give any protests. "I'm not going to let you hurt her."

Julia shrugs. "That's fine, we don't need your permission."

Bianca swings out of nowhere, kicking Stiles aside and instantly knocking her fist against Lydia's cheek. Both of them drop like stones, and while Lydia stays out cold, Stiles forces himself up to literally dive in front of her.

"Be _patient_!" he yells.

"There's not _time_ to be patient!" Julia screeches as she morphs into her true form. Bianca quick jumps aside as she walks towards Stiles, wet prints staying where her feet land. "Aibell is going to strike on the full moon, when the bite of the werewolves will be the strongest!"

"That doesn't make any sense!" Stiles snarls, his eyes blazing red and fangs mashing. He also strains against the ropes, and Stiles suddenly understands why he can't get out of them. They glow a bright white when stressed, so they must have some magic quality to them, like being unbreakable. "Why would she want to fight us when we're at our strongest?"

"WE DON'T KNOW!" Julia roars, spinning around to face him. Stiles gets splattered with a bit of seaweed, and it's totally disgusting, but he just wipes it off instead of commenting. Now is definitely not the time. "You think we wouldn't _tell_ you if we didn't know? We want you on our side, but we don't have the time for it! Including today, the full moon is in _ten days_! Something is going to happen on that day, and we just…" She sighs, morphing back into her human form except for a clawed hand so that she can put a scratch in a concrete pillow. "We're running out of options, so we're here to speed things up a little."

When she looks over her shoulder at Stiles, Peter honestly looks a little scared, but Derek snarls as his alpha is trying to rip out of him and protect his mate. Stiles wishes he'd be strong enough to actually do so, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen. Why, he doesn't know. Maybe the ropes have wolfsbane in them, because they didn't glow when Stiles was straining against them…

Stiles swallows tightly. "I'm not going to move."

"That's fine," she says, turning her head back to the werewolves. "We'll deal with you third." She nods at Mason, who swings around from where he's holding the knife to Peter's throat and hits him so hard across the face that Stiles can hear his cheek bone crack. It knocks him out, too, and his head hangs limply as blood drips onto his legs.

Stiles starts to get up, but Bianca steps in front of him and shoves him backwards with her foot, and then she doesn't move it, so he's left pinned to the concrete beside Lydia, breathing calmly in her unconscious state.

"Derek!" he yells. "I don't know what they're going to do, but don't let them do it!"

Derek glances over at him with a silent "I'm actually tied up right now but I'll sure try" before snarling at Julia as she steps over in front of him. "You can't knock out an alpha so easily," he growls.

She gives an evil grin. "Maybe I can't…" Cracking her neck, her body begins to drip apart like water, and seaweed crawls out of her skin and wraps her up until you can't see anything else at all. She keeps building and building until she's tall and broad, and then the seaweed melts away, revealing none other than a second Derek. Morphing between her true form and human form is a simple shimmer of color, but that was far more elaborate. Maybe because she's never turned into Derek before. "But _you_ can."

Derek barely even has a chance to widen his eyes before Julia swings her first—er, Derek's fist?—breaking all of his cheek, jaw, _and_ nose. It doesn't knock him out, though, and Stiles is left covering his mouth (he knows he can't get away from Bianca, and even if he did, Milo would be over in a second to help her get him down again) as Julia swings and hits the other side to break those bones as well. That one does it, and though there's blood dripping onto his lap as well, Stiles lets out a sigh of relief. The fact that he's knocked out means he's not going to get hit anymore.

When Julia starts to advance on him, though, he starts to panic more.

"No, let me put him out," Milo says. "He's the tastiest human we've seen yet. We wouldn't want to hurt that pretty face."

Stiles decides not to like Milo again.

The youngest siren bends down beside him, and while Julia steps on both of Stiles' hands so he can't use them to defend himself, Milo pinches his nose shut and covers his mouth tight enough that he can't breathe. He knows they're not trying to kill him and just make him pass out, but his body still panics. It's useless, of course, and he welcomes the darkness of sleep like an old friend.

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

Derek wakes up angry and hurt, but he does feel that the bones in his face have healed—straight, too, which means that someone had to hold it in place for who knows how long. Nobody is holding him now, though, and he's still tied up to the damn chair. The satin ropes are laced with magic _and_ wolfsbane, making them impossible to break. Derek might have been able to snap them off in his alpha form, but the wolfsbane tied around so many places on his body made it very difficult to change. He was close, but he got his face smashed up before he had the chance. Damn sirens and their shifting abilities.

Derek lifts his head up to see that Peter is still passed out beside him, and both Lydia and Stiles are laid out nicely on Derek's mattress where it's been pulled out for all the meetings so people can sit on it. is lying beside them, making that angry moaning sound just as loud as she was the first night that Derek ever saw her up on Scott's roof. What is she doing that for? Is she just scared because Stiles was? The two teens smell the same that they did before, so… No. No, Derek smells blood. His, Peter's, and Stiles' too. Shit.

He also smells a siren still in here, though, so he glares up at the ceiling. Bianca chuckles and drops down in front of him, a good yard away, so Derek isn't even going to try to lunge at her.

"What did you do to him?" he growls.

"_I_ didn't do anything," she says, snapping one of her suspenders against her shirt. She's not in the hideous yellow cargo pants anymore, but neon yellow skinny jeans. Do all of the sirens have a designated color or something? "You, though…" She laughs, beginning to move backwards. "What did _you_ do, Derek?"

Derek feels his heartbeat rising. He was out cold. They could have… His eyes widen. He tastes it in his mouth. Stiles' blood. "You made me bite him?" he whispers.

Bianca grins and puts her hands on her hips. "_Now_ you're getting it! I promise he won't die like little old Paige, but he certainly won't change as easily as most people do into werewolves. He was bit by one of the hidebehinds, after all." She starts to back away, still facing him. "You've got three days until he turns into the monster that us sirens and banshees need him to be, Derek. You can't change him back unless you want him to kill you, though. That's how it works, isn't it? To become human again you have to kill the alpha that turned you? Well, let's face it… He'd rather turn into a monster than kill you. You know, crushes an' all." She chuckles and she swings around the stairway railing and hops onto the second step up. "Speaking of crushes… Just between you and me, I've decided that I'm falling in love with your little Isaac. He pisses the hell out of me, but I like that in a guy. Not to mention the _bored_ look he gave to my true form, and the fact that I don't eat werewolves." She starts to walk up the stairs. "Remember, though. It's our little secret." She winks before disappearing up the stairs.

Derek has to physically hold his alpha in, knowing that it's just going to hurt if it tries to come out anyway. It's useless using his power right now; he just needs to get out of these damn ropes.

Lydia groans a little, and Derek has never been more excited to say her name. "Lydia! Lydia, wake up!"

She groans once more before rolling over from Stiles, but she rolls right off of the mattress, so she gives a little yelp as she falls the three inches onto the concrete. "Ow!" She rubs a hand over her cheek. "Do I have a bruise?"

Derek rolls his eyes. "Yes, you can cover it up with make-up later. You need to get me out of these now, though. Something's wrong with Stiles."

She frowns, looking back at him as she stands. "He looks fine to m—oh." Stiles still has his shirt on, but the blood from the bite has already stained through in a massive patch. "Okay, okay, untying ropes, I'm coming." She kneels down behind him to get his hands first. "What happened to him?"

Derek takes a deep breath. "They knocked all four of us out, and then they made me bite him."

She stops working to lean around and stare at him. "Stiles is going to turn into a—?"

"No, something different. We don't know what, though, and neither do the sirens. Bianca said that we have three days until he's changed into whatever it's going to be."

She huffs. "Why is it always three days? Why not two or four and a half?"

Derek decides to ignore her comment, instead breathing a sigh of relief as his hands are untied from behind the chair. Lydia still has to untie the ropes around his chest, stomach, and legs, though. When they get everything but the legs done, Derek reaches down to do one while she doe the other.

"Untie Peter," he says to her as soon as he's free.

She nods.

Derek instantly moves to Stiles, kneeling down beside the mattress. It's just a single sized bed, so Derek can easily still reach him. He rolls the teen softly onto his side, gritting his teeth at the little whimper. He unsheathes a claw and rips the shirt off like he had to do when he was bit by the hidebehind, and he lets out a low growl at the sight of the bite. Spandex has stopped her moaning now that Bianca is gone, but her tail is wrapped tightly around one of Stiles' arms. Derek is glad that he's gained the mishibijw's trust so that she'll let him try and help the teen.

"Stiles?" he says, rubbing his hand against his forehead as he continues to inspect the bite. It's definitely his bite, and he wishes he knew how the sirens were able to get him to shift his fangs out while he was unconscious. Damn sea monsters. It's in the same spot that the hidebehind bit him, and while there's dried blood crusted around, there's also the same goopy purple slime as before, seeping out of it. He swallows tightly. "Stiles, wake up."

It takes a little more than that to make Stiles stir, but he eventually does enough to wake him up, his eyes fluttering open tiredly. He groans, reaching a hand up to hold Derek's hand to his forehead. "My face hurts. Did your bones heal?"

Derek nods. "Yeah, they're all better. You've got a bruise, but it's nothing that won't heal. How does your side feel?"

Stiles frowns. "My side? It feels fine."

Derek mashes his lips together. The purple venom, now that it's inside of his body, must be acting as a healing liquid instead of a poison to his bloodstream.

Stiles gets the hint and pushes his head off of his forehead to push himself up on his eyebrows, and his eyes widen very, very wide. "Oh." His heart starts to race. "Derek, oh my god, what happened? What bit me? Did one of the sirens turn into something and—"

Derek puts a finger over his mouth. "I didn't mean to."

His heart stutters, and Derek removes the finger. "_You_ bit me?" the teen asks, incredulous.

"I was unconscious, I didn't know."

"How do you know it wasn't Julia after she turned into you?"

"Only a true alpha can turn someone. She was only an imitation."

Stiles takes a deep breath before letting it out long and loud. "Why is it purple?"

"It must be leftovers from the bite of the hidebehind. It's…healing you."

"It's not doing a very good job at it."

"It took an hour to heal last time, remember? We don't know how long we've been out. I doubt I was out for that long as an alpha, so it probably just hasn't reached the point that it's going to heal itself yet."

"What do we do if it doesn't heal?" Lydia asks.

Derek glances up at her for only a split second before answering her question to Stiles. "I have no idea."

Stiles swallows tightly. "Did they tell you what I'm going to turn into?"

"No, and I think that's because they're telling the truth that they really don't know what it is. They just know that it's going to help destroy Sadb, so they obviously don't care." He shifts up to sit beside Stiles on the mattress, grabbing up the shirt to press a clean spot to the wound. The purple instantly starts to seep through, but it doesn't matter. This shirt is going to get thrown away anyway. "Whatever it is, Bianca said that you've got three days before you become it."

Stiles' heartbeat starts to drum faster again. "Saturday?"

"Yup," Lydia says, holding the last ropes around Peter's shoulders. "Derek, I finished. Can you help me lower him to the ground?"

Derek nods, taking Stiles' hands to hold the shirt to the wound so he can let go and help his uncle from cracking his skull against the concrete floor. He's stirs at the movement, though, and Derek decides that he'll just wake him up.

"Fuck, that hurt," he says, holding a hand to his forehead. "Did I heal straight?"

"Yeah, you look fine."

He opens his eyes and instantly looks over at Stiles. "What happened?"

Derek explains it for the third time, moving back to his mate's side.

"Right," Peter says, pushing up to sit back on his chair. Now that it's not a prison it's probably comfortable. "What do we do?"

"We can't do anything," Derek says, giving Stiles a sad look. "Only if you want to kill me."

Even under the circumstances, Stiles snorts. "I'd rather turn into whatever I'm going to than kill you, and I'm pretty sure you would too."

Derek nods solemnly. "That's what the sirens are counting on."

Lydia sighs and sits down on Stiles' other side. Spandex gets up to curl up on the floor nearest his head, whining in her throat. It's a very doglike thing for a catlike creature to do, but Derek's not complaining. She would have protected him with her life.

"You shouldn't mop the venom up," Lydia says, pulling the shirt away. "It's healing him, now."

Derek nods before looking over at Peter. "Wanna get a meeting in here?"

"Ugh, no," Lydia says, standing up again. "Definitely at my place. I'm not spending any longer in a place that I've been knocked out at."

"I've been knocked out at both," Stiles says, "so it doesn't matter to me where we go."

"It is more comfortable there," Peter says. "We should sit out in the sun. You know, utilize these early sunny days."

Derek rolls his eyes. "Alright, alright, just get everyone there by the time that we're there."

Peter nods, pulling out his phone as he walks towards the stairs. Lydia gives Stiles a soothing pat on his forehead before following after him.

Derek looks back down at Stiles after they disappear, trying really hard not to look as sad as he feels. "I'm sorry," he says.

"It's not your fault," Stiles says, beginning to push up into a sitting position.

Derek scoots closer and helps him, wrapping an arm around his waist (but careful not to touch the bite). "I know, but… We don't know what you're going to become now, Stiles. Maybe the bite of the hidebehind didn't do anything to you, but it's obviously still inside of you, so what's going to happen? You've been bit by both a catlike and doglike creature; you could literally turn into anything."

Stiles sighs, leaning his head against Derek's shoulder. "I think I'm with Isaac, now," he mutters. "If I get bit or captured one more time I'm going to hurt somebody."

Derek licks his lips. "You probably will, yeah."

The teen gives a little cringe. "It was supposed to be funny, but you made it not so funny."

Derek nods. "Come on, we've got a meeting to get you."

They stand, but just before the stairs, Stiles stops walking. "Hey, Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I have a hug?"

Derek blinks down at him a bit. "I don't want to hurt the bite mark."

"I can't feel it, remember?"

Derek nods, wrapping his arms around his waist. Stiles pushes up on his tiptoes and wraps his own arms tightly around Derek's neck, his heart beating rapidly but his breathing calm. Obviously he's upset.

"Watch whatever I get turned into force us to stay apart from each other and all of this is totally pointless," the teen says as he goes back down on his feet.

Derek smiles and kisses his forehead. "Not all of it."

* * *

End chapter notes: Oooh, what's Stiles gonna turn into? Only I know! Mwahahaha! For now, anyway. You guys'll find out soon enough :) Anyway, end of chapter 12! The full moon/end of school are coming and I totally have it planned out and I'm very excited and if you're not well I don't know why you're still reading but thanks for doing it anyway :P Also the Sterek ship is really starting to get thrown into the fic more. I don't know about you people, but I'm cool with that.  
Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	13. Between Three Days

**13: Between Three Days**

Quick note: Woohoo, I finished another chapter in a day! Enjoy what's to come ;)

* * *

_STILES  
Thursday (middle of the night), June 13…_

Stiles wakes up from where he's wrapped in Derek's arms on the couch closest to the door in searing pain, and he shoves the alpha off of him to lift his shirt (Derek had an extra of those in his car, too, so it's gigantic) up at where his wound feels like it's stinging and burning all at once. Derek wakes up right away, eyes wide and red in surprise at being thrown awake.

"Fuck," Stiles whispers, watching the bite mark literally bubble against his skin. It's a mixture of red and purple—not actually mixing together, but just intermingling.

"It's healing," Derek says, resting a hand against the skin beside it.

"Took it long enough," Stiles hisses. It hurts—really fucking bad. He pushes off of the couch, nearly tripping over Spandex (who's now awake too) and stumbles towards the door. Sure, the banshees could be waiting outside, but he's confident that they're going to leave him alone until Saturday.

Derek follows after him, up to the top of the stairs where Stiles sits down since he can't make it any further. "Fuck," he says again. "It really fucking hurts."

Derek lifts the shirt up himself this time, looking it over. "What does it feel like?" he asks as the skin continues to bubble.

"Like a storm of fire so hot that it's white and stinging wasps and broken bones have all decided to fuck that spot in particular," he grinds out.

"Hold the shirt up."

Stiles does, and then Derek is holding both of his hands against Stiles' skin, one on his stomach beside the bite and the other on his side above it. Stiles watches as Derek's veins turn black, and he sighs with about as much relief as when Derek was knocked out. He's actually taking the pain away. Stiles forgot that the wolves could do that. He holds his hands there until the bubble stops, and Stiles skin is healed almost perfectly. The teeth marks are still there, but as scars.

"I think I'd be okay with keeping those forever," he whispers, putting his shirt back down.

Derek kisses him softly, resting a hand against his cheek and the other one over the bite mark. Stiles fists his hands against Derek's shirt, leaning forward until he forces the werewolf to fall backwards at the top of the stairs. He keeps moving until he's straddling the man, letting go of his shirt so he can put his hands against the concrete and hold himself up better. The hand that Derek has against his cheek slips down further and further until it's gripping onto the back of one of his thighs, and the other hand moves down as well until its resting against his ass.

Stiles isn't sure if it's the mate thing or his sexual deprivation or just because he genuinely likes the guy (crushing on Derek? That's what they're going for, sure, but it's still a weird thought), but he wants this. He wants it so bad. Not all the way right here at the top of the stairs where any of the members of the two packs could walk out and see them (not to mention it's not the most comfortable on the concrete), but the next time there's a carpet around, Stiles is pretty sure he's going to have to jump the guy.

He puts all of his weight on his knees and moves his hands down Derek's chest, really glad that Derek isn't wearing a belt. He knows his hands are awkward as they fumble at the button and zipper, but in his defense, this is the first time taking off somebody else's pants (there was that time putting Jackson _in_ pants, but that's not the same thing because it's the opposite and he was also about to vomit), and Derek knows that.

Just as he's about to tell Derek to lifts his hips so the jeans can actually come down, Derek stops him. "Erica's up," he says.

"I don't care," Stiles says, tugging lightly at the fabric. "There's a bathroom inside if she needs it and should know not to come outside when she can probably hear us."

Derek nods and lifts his hips, allowing for Stiles to pull the jeans down to his ankles. Stiles has never actually had to handle somebody else like this before; he hasn't even read about it. All he's got is porn, and he's certainly had his fair share as a teenage boy.

"I'm going to be really bad at this," he says, looping his fingers into Derek's boxers, "and I sincerely apologize."

Derek sits up at that, a light grin on his face. "Now _you're_ giving me a blowjob?"

"You wouldn't let me last time!"

He leans, bending down and kissing his forehead. "You're sure you want to?"

"I'm gonna do it eventually, it might as well be now."

"If you want."

"Yes, I want to, geez. Lift your hips again."

Derek does, and Stiles has to say that he's impressed with himself that Derek is already as hard as he is. The wolf is bigger than him, but Stiles expected that. It makes him a little nervous for both right and now and the inevitable later, but if he just remembers Danny's words he knows he'll be fine. The healing of his side was way worse than that can possible be.

Stiles feels like a dork when he takes a deep breath before moving to hold onto the base of Derek's length, but he also knows that Derek can hear his heartbeat, so it's not really a big deal. He remembers a lot of what Derek did, so he'll just…do his best in doing exactly that. He bends down and flicks his tongue over the head, grinning internally as Derek's breathing becomes more and more labored. Maybe he's totally going to suck at his very first blowjob, but still, it's a mouth on a dick. Unless it's got too much teeth (maybe Stiles has only had one, but he has watched his fair share of porn for a teenage boy), it's practically impossible for it not to feel at least a little good.

It's certainly not _easy_ giving one of these things, but that doesn't mean he's going to stop. Derek is being quiet vocally, but he's breathing heavy, so he's probably just making sure that he doesn't wake anybody up. That's what Stiles hopes, anyway. Either that or he sucks. In his defense, though, it's his first. He's just glad that he's watched porn before, because he knows basics. Hollowing cheeks and keeping teeth away and the occasional pull back so he can just drag his tongue up and then speeding up the longer he goes. Maybe he sucks at it, but at least he knows what to do.

Eventually Derek pushes a hand through Stiles's hair and even whimpers a little, and Stiles gives another internal grin. "Stiles," he breathes, voice still husky behind it. "Stiles, I'm—"

It's a warning enough, but even so, Stiles doesn't swallow even half of it and has to pull away to choke a little. "You're right," he says, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "It does taste better when it's not your own."

Derek leans forward and kisses him languidly, and Stiles giggles a little against his mouth.

"How bad was I?" he asks when Derek pulls away.

"You did fine," Derek breathes, voice still heavy. "And, by the way, the pain I took from you was nowhere near white fire, wasps, and broken bones. More like orange fire, honey bees, and a sprained ankle."

"Fuck you," Stiles says, but he's smiling. "I really wasn't that bad?"

"For your first one? No, you did totally fine."

"Great. Great." He looks down. "It's all over the stairs. We could get handfuls of pool water."

A large grin spreads over Derek's face. "Want to go swimming?"

"What? Derek, it's, like, three in the morning. I still have to go to school in the morning. There's a test in chemistry on Friday."

"So?"

Stiles smirks. "What happened to Mr. I'm Not Your Dad But Go Do Your Homework?"

He tilts his head slightly. "He got a blowjob."

Stiles laughs, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose. "Fine, let's go swimming. Camando?"

"Sounds fun."

At that moment, the door downstairs opens up, and Erica walks out. "Good lord," she hisses. "You woke up me, Isaac, _and_ Allison. Go be sexual farther away from the door!"

Stiles and Derek just laugh as she goes back inside, stripping on the way to the pool. Their clothes are literally scattered everywhere, and they have to make sure that they don't make too loud of a splash so that they don't wake up Mrs. Martin.

Derek has Stiles pinned up against the wall of the pool in water that comes up to Derek's neck, biting and sucking light enough not to leave any hickies as his hand works him underwater. Water certainly isn't the best lube in the world, but it works well enough.

"You were much better at being quiet that time," Derek says with a light chuckle.

Stiles breathes his own laugh. "Thanks, but promise me something."

"Hmm?"

"We can never tell Lydia that I just came in her pool."

"Deal."

**XxX**

_The Next Day (Friday, June 14, in the early evening)…_

Stiles and Derek both camp out at the kitchen table for about an hour with homework, Mr. Harris showing everyone that miracles really don't exist by giving them homework after the test. It was the last one before finals, so Stiles has some serious studying to do. Stiles and Derek are currently playing a game that Stiles made up on the spot, called "the game of ask a random question and hope it starts a conversation" (or tgoaarqahisac for short), and Stiles is pretty sure that Spandex is actually over at Peter's apartment with him and Isaac right now.

"What's your favorite candy bar?" Derek asks.

"Reece's Peanut Butter Cups. Yours?"

"Promise not to laugh?"

"No."

The wolf rolls his eyes. "Sour Skittles."

Stiles snorts. "You mean…you mean sourwolf is totally plausible?"

"That's exactly why I didn't want you to laugh, you know."

"I know, and I did anyway. Okay, my turn. What's your favorite scent?"

Derek wrinkles his nose up. "Do you realize how many scents I actually smell in a day?"

"Don't think so hard about it, dude. Pick something out of normal things, like vanilla or new sports equipment or Sharpie ink."

Derek buzzes his lips, and Stiles has to cover his mouth to keep from giggling. Even if they never had to deal with the mate thing, Stiles is glad that they did, because he's pretty sure that Derek would still be the annoying, sourwolf he used to be. Now he laughs and smiles and tells his betas when he's proud of them and also doesn't break their bones when they annoy him a little.

"Maybe…clean clothes?" he says at length. "You know, warm and fresh out of the dryer before they've been sitting on the floor waiting to be folded so the soapy smell goes away. What's yours?"

He grins. "New sports equipment."

Derek gives a good natured eye roll. "Any particular sport?"

"Basketballs are nice."

"That's weird. What's your favorite season?"

"Summer, because I can get a tan and also not have to go to school. Yours?"

"Winter, because I get to deal with less people."

Stiles laughs. "I don't care if you laugh at Peter's jokes, you're still a sourwolf. What's our favorite Disney princess?"

Derek purses his lips, and he looks like he's actually thinking about it. Stiles is glad that the alpha likes to come over and help him with all of this lame school work. "Ariel, because she's oblivious to everything and it's cute to watch but I would have ripped her throat out. Yours?"

Stiles chuckles. "Mulan, but that might just be because that movie has the best songs."

Derek nods fervently. "That's true. Looks like we'll be fighting for boys, though."

Stiles smiles. "Your knowledge of Disney movies is turning me on."

Derek rolls his eyes. "Sorry."

Stiles leans over and kisses his chin. "What do you get when you infuse an apple with tin?"

The alpha raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Snapple! Get it? 'Cause in on the periodic table of elements is 'Sn'."

Derek lowers the eyebrow. "You have one more problem, kiddo."

"Ugh, don't call me that."

Derek smirks a little. "Finish it in thirty seconds and I won't ever do it again."

Stiles finishes it in twenty-four. "Ha," he says as he gathers everything up to bring into his room. "I win."

The wolf scuffs up his hair as he grabs some books as well, following him up the stairs. "When is your dad getting back again?" he asks.

"Um, seven tonight. It's, like, six-twenty now."

"His ever changing work schedule infuriates me."

"Tell me about it."

They drop everything on the floor by the desk.

"We could start the Breakfast Club," Derek suggests.

Stiles grins, sitting down on the bed. "I have a better idea."

Derek gets the hint and sits down beside him, kissing him hard as Stiles swings a leg over so that he can straddle him. They've been doing a lot of kissing lately, and Stiles is fine with that. The werewolf is growing on him. A lot. And maybe Stiles would deny any sort of crush to his friends and then get called out on it since almost all of them can tell when someone is lying, but that's fine too. Derek is tall and strong and really awesome at cuddling and he doesn't protest when Stiles wants to watch something stupidly romantic and he helps him with the dishes and just yesterday he even tickled him until he peed his pants. That kind of hurt to laugh so hard, and it was more than a little embarrassing, but Stiles isn't complaining. If anything, this whole thing is good for Stiles because he's becoming more confident in himself, and it's great for Derek because he's branching out in the emotions that he shows. Even if whatever Stiles gets turned into is something that shatters their underlying need to be mates, at least they've had till today.

Derek hooks his fingers under Stiles' shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing it to the floor before Stiles helps him push his own shirt off.

"You've been wearing my shirts to bed still," Derek breathes as he trails hisses now Stiles' neck.

"You smell good," Stiles says for reason, tilting his neck to the side to allow the alpha a better access.

"I've been using your cologne since I'm always staying over."

"I smell good?" Stiles says in new reason.

Derek hums a laugh as he spins around on the bed, pushing Stiles onto his back. He holds onto his hips to keep him down as he grinds against him, and Stiles can't help but let a moan escape. Derek has to move away when he keeps kissing down his body, stopping here and there to suck at a collar bone or nibble a nipple (totally Stiles' new favorite phrase) or drag his tongue across a rib. When he gets to the scar of his own teeth marks, though, he stops and kisses some of the individual tooth marks.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

Stiles feels so much emotion for that single sentence that he actually almost starts crying, but that would be stupid, so he just grabs Derek to pull him back up and kiss him until neither of them can breathe.

"Shut up," he says. "It's fine. You didn't know. Neither of us did. I forgive you, okay?" He kisses him again. "Shut up."

Derek stares at him intensely when they pull away to breathe again, eyes a very dark red and pupils blown wide. "Stiles…"

Stiles finishes for him: "I want you."

Derek wastes no time in stripping them both, clothes landing all over the room and pants being yanked inside out and Stiles hears his phone _thunk_ against the carpet but he can find that later. They've only both been completely naked twice before: once was in Lydia's pool and the other was this morning before school when Derek taught Stiles a particularly wonderful handjob trick where you sit close enough to each other that you can wrap your hand around both dicks at once. Great stuff.

This is different, though. This is where Danny's advice comes in.

"Just so you know," Derek says as he grabs up Stiles' bottle of lube, "the moonlight shining through the window makes your eyes shine like stars."

Stiles is so taken aback by the compliment that he just opens and closes his mouth a couple of times. Sure, Derek has complimented him before, like his shirt or his hair or something, but never something like that. Never "your eyes shine like stars".

Derek smiles at Stiles' lack of anything to say before leaning down and kissing him softly. Not just soft, but slow. They've kissed like that before, but it just feels different after the compliment.

When Derek pulls away, he holds up the bottle. "This is going to feel really weird at first. You up for it?"

"Up for gay sex? Yeah, man, another entry in my adventure diary."

Derek rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "It'll be colder there, too."

He's certainly not lying about that, and Stiles gives a little hiss at the touch. "Cold indeed," he mutters.

Derek leans down and kisses him, swallowing Stiles' little gasp as a finger actually pushes inside of him. Yeah, it's definitely cold and uncomfortable, but only at first. He gets used to the sensation soon enough, but then Derek has to go and push in another finger and make it feel all weird again.

The alpha breathes a laugh. "You keep closing one eye and wrinkling your nose up and it's adorable."

Stiles manages a smile at him. "One of these days you're going to lose a bet with me and the loser is going to sub."

"And on that day that I actually lose to you," he says as he pushes in a third finger, "you will have won it fair and square."

Stiles doesn't know how long Derek stretches him for, but he finds that, somewhere during the third finger, that instead of the sensations just being tolerable, they really feel _good_. He actually finds himself frowning when Derek pulls his hands away, wiping it on the bed sheet.

"I know that was gross," he says, "but we'll want to wash them anyway."

Stiles nods, watching as Derek opens the bottle again and uses the liquid to slick up his own length. He notices Stiles watching, too, and something flashes in his eyes.

"Oh, I almost forgot to say. Werewolves can't catch or transfer any disease, so you don't need to worry about STD's and the like."

"Oh," Stiles says with a nod. "That's good to know. If this turning thing doesn't fuck everything, we'll never have to invest in condoms."

Derek laughs, setting the bottle aside. "That'd be nice, yes." Then a more serious tone sets his face, and he looks Stiles dead in the eyes. "You're ready?" he asks.

Stiles lets in a deep breath and nods. "Yeah."

Derek positions himself against Stiles, both hot and cold sensations resting against him. "Take a deep breath, and then exhale as I push in, alright?"

Stiles nods and breathes in deep.

And then it's happened. Derek is pushing in and Stiles is exhale all at once because um ouch. Derek stops a moment later, just enough that only the head is in.

"Here, can you get your legs over my shoulders?" he asks. "It'll hurt less."

Stiles nods, swinging them up awkwardly, but he does get them up there. He's not as flexible as Isaac (Mr. Currently Into Gymnastics an' all), but it works fine. Derek starts to push in again, and Stiles can admit that it does feel better at this angle. Eventually Derek is balls deep (another fun phrase), and he bends down to kiss Stiles' forehead.

"I'll keep going slowly," he says.

"Yeah, just…once or twice more," Stiles says, forcing himself to breathe. "It's not that bad."

Derek continues to push slowly in and pull slowly out of him, and suddenly, on the third push in, everything changes. It goes from being uncomfortable and a bit painful to wonderful and _far too slow_.

"Ahh, Derek."

The wolf stops, eyes wide. "What, did I hurt you? I thought—"

"No, fuck," Stiles says, reaching a hand up to wrap around Derek's neck. "Keep moving. Don't stop. Ever."

Obviously Stiles is straight forward enough for Derek to get the hint, instantly rocking his hips faster and harder (and yeah, the bed is squeaking just a little, but they don't acknowledge it). He pushes on of Stiles' legs down to wrap around his waist, and he kisses him hard on every stroke.

Stiles has never breathed so hard in his life, and he doesn't even care how stupid he sounds. He tells Derek faster and harder and he arches his neck back and pants when Derek sucks at the skin there and even the alpha is moaning hard and low and there's color in his cheeks like when he was drunk and Stiles decides right then and there that he loves that color and one of these days he's going to get the sourwolf to blush at something.

Derek pounds into Stiles like a god; he can feel everything in every bone of his body. Derek's mouth and his hands and—

"Stiles," Derek whispers without slowing. "Your dad just pulled in."

Stiles does not even care. He honestly _does not care_. "Floor," he chokes out. "No squeaking."

The alpha actually rolls them off of the bed and onto the floor without even breaking the coupling _or_ hurting either of them. Stiles ends up on top, though, which he's obviously never done before. He starts to roll once more to get o his back again, but Derek keeps him there.

"I'll help," he says. His eyes are bright red, Now. He looks _wrecked_.

Stiles just nods, though, because he knows that he looks a million times worse.

Derek's hands hold tightly to his hips, helping him move up and down. Something about it shifts the angel _just right_, and Stiles _knows_ that his dad is probably inside now, but he cries out anyway. Derek sits up at that, still helping, and kisses him hard, biting and licking out his mouth like he's searching for something. Stiles grips tightly to the back of Derek's head and neck, breath coming faster as Derek strokes into him and…and…

"Derek," he moans. "Derek, I'm—"

Derek holds Stiles down _hard_ at that very second, moaning so hard into Stiles' shoulder that he's sure that he's going to have a sound wave induced bruise there. He doesn't care, though, because he does the exact same thing, spilling out over Derek's stomach and it's honestly a somewhat disgusting thought but he just _doesn't care_.

They sit there for a few seconds, just staring at each other as their breathing slows. Watching the red in Derek's eyes melt away is strangely beautiful…

"He's putting his stuff away," the werewolf whispers. "Is he going to check on you?"

Stiles tries to find enough spit to swallow, but he ends up just nodding dumbly. And then Derek does that stupid, perfect smile thing and Stiles just wants to kiss him again and—

"We can't stay like this," Derek says. "We have to… Clothes."

Stiles nods and stands, instantly missing the feeling of Derek inside of him. It's short, though, because he just wants to cringe at the spunk he suddenly feels…dripping…

"Oh god," he hisses, sitting straight back down on the floor.

Derek gives a toothless smile and grabs the tissue box off the stands of his bed. "It's a good thing you invested in these."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up as he takes the box. "At least I can't get pregnant."

This time Derek is the one cringing. "There's no way I'm raising a kid with you yet."

"Good, because I'm not even going to think about it until I'm financially stable."

Stiles is also glad that he's got a trash can in his room, and he and Derek quick dress before Stiles goes downstairs before his dad has a chance to knock on the door. His ass is definitely sore, but not enough that he's going to go down and limp around.

"Hey, dad," he says, moving to the freezer for ice cream. "Work alright?"

"Oh, Stiles, hey," he says, looking up from the table. "Don't eat that, I'm about to start dinner. Chicken and rice. And work was good. Still no more dead bodies."

Stiles frowns. "Fine," he says, putting it away. "I'll just keep doing homework. And that's good. Dead bodies are no fun."

"That's an understatement." His dad peeks out over the top of his reading glasses. "You've been doing a lot of homework lately. I've never known you for actually trying to get A's instead of B's."

Stiles frowns. "Thanks for the confidence boost, dad."

The sheriff's look doesn't change. "Come on, what gives? Are you trying to impress somebody?"

"You seriously think I've got anybody to impress?"

His dad gives a very pointed show of looking Stiles over. "I'm just going to come right out with it, but son, you look like you just had sex."

Stiles tries really hard to keep from blushing, but he fails miserably. "Nice as that is to think that there's actually someone out there who _wants_ to have sex with me, I'm not that privileged."

His dad blinks a bit. "You do realize that I'm a cop, right? You're trying to tell a cop that you look that wrecked after jacking off?"

"Oh my god, dad, don't _say_ that!" He shudders, trying really, really hard to keep himself under control. "I don't look _that_ bad, okay?"

"Stiles, your jeans are inside out"

Stiles frowns and looks down at himself. Aw, come on, Derek didn't notice that? Actually… How didn't Derek notice that? Is he as wrecked as Stiles is? Wow. That's unexpected. Stiles is impressed with himself.

"Oh," he says, looking up. "I was trying to get down here fast so you wouldn't suspect anything."

His dad sighs, reaching up to take his glasses off. Stiles knows he's fucked right that second. "I know we've already had 'the talk', son, but I just want to make sure you're using protection."

Stiles blinks a bit. "Wait, you're not mad?"

"Ah-HA!" he yells. "You _were_ having sex!"

"Daaaaad!"

"Come on, no, I'm not mad. You're sixteen; I lost mine at fifteen. Don't be so dramatic. Is she pretty?"

Stiles is pretty sure he's about to pass out, partly because this is embarrassing and also because he's one-hundred percent sure that Derek is listening in and laughing his ass off. "You could, uh, say pretty…if you wanted."

His dad sighs. "Alright, I'm done embarrassing you. Sit down."

Stiles' legs are like jelly, but he collapses into the chair across from his dad. "Please don't hurt me."

"I'm not going to hurt you, I just…" He lets out a big puff of air. "Your principal called me two days ago."

Stiles frowns. "And you're just telling me now? What did he say?"

"He said that you've been hanging around with Derek Hale quite a bit."

Stiles feels all the color drain out of his face. He and Derek are _so_ fucked. "Oh?" His voice cracks on that single word. Shit.

His dad sighs. "I was waiting for you to tell me, but obviously it wasn't going to happen. Care to tell me _why_ you two are suddenly friends?"

Stiles tries to think of a plausible lie in three seconds—and it totally works. He sighs for the effect. "He's tutoring me."

His dad keeps a very blank face. "Tutoring you in _what_, exactly?"

"Dad!"

"Stiles, I can _smell_ you! I can still _see_ you. Your hair is squished down, your jeans are inside out, and you have a hicky."

Stiles' hand flies to his neck. He's going to kill that wolf.

His dad leans forward and folds his heads. "_What_ is he tutoring you in?" he repeats.

Stiles gives the biggest sigh he has ever given in his life. "Okay, first, he really is helping me with chemistry. I've already gotten it up to a seventy-four percent! The other classes just happen to be going up too because we sit down for a couple of hours until it's finished. And…and the second thing, I didn't keep it from you because it's Derek, I did because he's seven years older than me and it's totally illegal." He drums his fingers on the table to let it soak in. "It's not like some creepy molestation thing, okay? He's not a pedophile and I _know_ that Scott and I have tried getting him arrested twice but that's why we started hanging out because obviously we were wrong and he wanted to glare at us up close and it ended up in us all being friends and now he hangs out with _all_ of us and he just grew on me and yes we just had sex but it was only our first time please don't go into my room and arrest him!"

His dad stares for what seems like ages, but eventually he swallows and speaks: "Were you really trying to tell me you were gay when you were with Scott and Danny at that club?"

The fact that _that's_ what the sheriff asks lets Stiles know that, somehow, it's all going to be okay. "Uh, no. I'm just bi now. It was sort of an, um, acquired taste."

His dad holds a hand up. "I get it, and okay, I won't arrest him. I mean, your grades really have improved, and nobody can get pregnant, so…" He drops his hand and shudders. "I'm sorry, I just can't believe you're gay and wearing that shirt."

"Dad, oh my god, I'll buy a freaking sweater vest and invest in some polo shirts, calm down."

"Alright, alright, fine. I'm not going to arrest your…boyfriend…but I am going to have to set some ground rules."

Stiles gives a fervent nod. "That's fair. That's totally fair."

"Nothing really tonight because I don't want to think so hard about it, but I do want to meet the guy in a different setting than _jail_. He's got a good record beside the two faulty arrests that were obviously taken off, so I'm not going to hold a grudge against him for a mistake that you and a friend made. Obviously the school did, and that's why I got a call, but I'm glad so I could actually know about this. Anyway. Just…ask him to stay for dinner, okay? Just this once. I won't ask again, I promise."

Stiles doesn't even care. He's relieved. He is totally beyond relieved. "Yeah, no, that's fine, he was just going to chill all night anyway. I was getting ice cream so we could watch a movie." Sort of a lie, but he doubts it, because that's probably what they would have ended up doing.

His dad nods. "What movie?"

"The Breakfast Club."

The sheriff purses his lips. "When I came home a couple days ago and you just finished 13 Going on 30, was he…here?"

Stiles sucks in a breath. "Maybe."

He shakes his head. "Okay, whatever. Just…go tell him he's staying. Take as much time as you need. I don't want to know how wrecked he looks compared to you."

Stiles nods and walks as calmly as he can up the stairs, but he can feel his own heartbeat against his chest and he's pretty sure that the butterflies in his stomach are about to come out in vomit. Derek must know it too, because before anything else at all (any laughter or embarrassed blushes or anything) he's holding the trash can out and Stiles just grabs it and hurls.

"Oh god," he says, setting it right outside of the door. He's glad he had a bag lining it so he can just tie it off and dump it into the bigger can outside. "I'm okay; the butterflies were in the puke."

"Good," Derek says as he sits down on the bed, "because I need your help deciding which emotion I should be feeling right now."

Stiles looks up at him with a huge grin. "Out of which?"

Derek holds his hand up and counts them off: "Awkward, embarrassed for you, embarrassed for me, or nervous."

Stiles sighs, flopping onto the bed beside him. "All of the above. Well, maybe not nervous… You're very charming when you want to be. You'll be fine. Maybe we did just bang, but I know you'll get along if you keep smiling."

"Speaking of which," Derek says, leaning down to kiss his temple. "I'm not kissing you until you brush your teeth, and also I would like to say that I told you so."

Stiles knows that he's talking about subbing getting much better as it goes, so he blushes and turns his head. "Whatever, you liked it too."

An arm wraps around him. "Definitely."

Stiles turns back to smile at him. "Must've, or you would noticed that my pants were inside out."

"Yeah, sorry about that…"

"It's fine, he would have found out eventually. Anyway, we both need to camp out in the bathroom for a minute. If I smell, you smell."

It's sort of weird peeing in front of each other, but not enough that they don't. Derek brushes his teeth too, and they use the only cologne that Stiles has ever owned and Stiles fixes his pants and Derek helps him fix his hair and Stiles just watches Derek do his own because he would just screw it up more.

Stiles expects his dad to greet Derek first when they walk into the kitchen, but instead he just gives a little snort. "If you had fixed yourself up _first_, Stiles," he says, "I might have kept my mouth shut."

Stiles blushes a little. "You were going to find out eventually."

"Exactly!" he says, setting everything down before turning around. He's not in uniform anymore, but he's still got this gun tucked into his pants. You can't see it when he's looking at you, but you could when he was facing the stove. "Derek Hale, hi."

Derek nods fervently and holds his hand out. "Nice to see you again, Sheriff Stilinksi. Out of here or prison, I'm not sure which circumstances I would prefer."

Stiles has to admit that that's funny, so he's glad that his dad laughs while he covers his mouth and tries not to keel over and die of the embarrassed about this whole predicament.

"So, Derek," he says. "I'm cooking, but you and Stiles can go ahead and sit down at the table. I wouldn't want to delay eating."

Stiles breathes a little sigh of relief when his dad looks away, and he looks over at Derek as they go to take seats on the opposite side of his dads work. "He's totally going to interrogate you," he whispers.

"Yes, I totally am," his dad says, flashing a grin.

Stiles gives a little "ugh" and leans on his elbows. "I suppose I should go break out the baby pictures for after dinner, then?"

Stiles must have said the right thing, because Derek and his dad make eye contact while grinning very widely.

"I think that's a great idea, son," the sheriff says, turning back to food. "We'll save that for dessert, though."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Me and my big mouth."

Derek glances over at him and, very quietly, says, "It is pretty big."

Stiles blushes furiously. "Oh my god, Derek, shut up."

"Actually," his dad says, "we should probably get to that before we're eating and are forced to make some eye contact."

Derek gives Stiles a warm smile and reaches out to hold his hand under the table. "Probably a safe idea, yes," he says without looking away.

The sheriff buzzes his lips a little, and for the first time, Stiles realizes where he got it from. Derek must have just picked it up from him as well, since he's done it a couple of times. "I could make this really awkward, but I could also just go with it, so I'm going to try really hard to do the latter. Stiles said that this was the, ah, first time, and I would like to say that I'm glad that I found out this early just so I don't have to have a heart attack about it later. But, I mean…condoms, right? Because it would really suck if Stiles got AIDS at sixteen."

"Daaaad."

Derek reaches over and holds a hand over his mouth. "It's over there or when he can glare at you," he says before dropping it. "And yes, protection. Great investment."

Stiles' eyes widen. "Derek," he whispers. "Oh my god, are you blushing?"

Derek glares at him.

"You're totally blushing."

"And you're going to be bleeding if you don't drop it."

Stiles just giggles, though, and he tries really hard not to notice the smile that his dad shoots at them.

"So, how long have you two known each other again?" the sheriff asks.

"Since the first time Scott and I got him arrested," Stiles says.

"Thanks for that, by the way," Derek says, squeezing his hand a little. "Like I'd kill my own sister."

"Oh, stop milking it. You buried her top half by your old house; what was I _supposed_ to think?"

"Alright, alright, enough about dead bodies," the sheriff says, waving a hand at them. "I'm sick of them."

Stiles snorts. "Tell me about it."

"How long have the two of you been, ah, _together_?"

Stiles shakes his head at Derek so he can answer it for him. "Um, officially it's only been since Mon—well, it was after midnight, so technically Tuesday, but we've been edging around for a…well, a while. Basically since the night that everybody thought that Jackson died." It's not _too_ much of a lie, since Erica soon revealed her plan of getting them together since she could smell that they were mates. "We've sort of been cramming all of our feelings into the last five days."

His dad nods. "Alright, I accept that. Derek, you're…twenty-three, right?"

He nods. "Seven years older, but my birthday is before his."

His dad nods again, and Stiles finds himself nodding as well, so he quick stops himself. "Where do you work again?"

"Currently I do not have a job thanks to faulty murder arrests, but I've got plenty to tie me over until I can get another one."

Stiles knows that he's lying about even trying to get one, but he still feels bad, and obviously his dad does too if the look he throws at him is apologetic enough. "I could write you a letter of recommendation or something. I mean, they _were_ faulty, but I know how people work. It would help a lot."

Derek smiles. "That would be really great, actually. You don't need to go out of your way for it, though. When I said I've got plenty, I really meant it. Lots of, uh, family deaths left me with more than I'll spend in a very long time."

The sheriff gives a look both awkward and sad as he looks back at cooking. "Yes, I supposed that would. Um…"

"Subject change!" Stiles yells, throwing his arms up. He knows that Derek is "over" the fire (no one ever gets over the death of most of their entire family, the just…pretend that they do until they can move on), so he's not going to get punched in the face for it later. "Guess who totally thinks they got at least a B on the chemistry test."

"Obviously me," Derek says, "since I'm still in high school."

The sheriff smiles over at Stiles. "Really? A B?"

Stiles nods fervently. "I'll find out if I actually bombed it on Monday."

His dad chuckles. "You went to the same school for high school, didn't you, Derek?"

"Yes, with my uncle Peter. He was born quite a few years after my mom, so he was more like my own brother than hers."

"Right, he, uh… He died too, didn't he?"

Stiles quick throws a hand over his mouth. "No, no, just in a coma for a bunch of years and gave the nurses a scare when his heart stopped for a few minutes. He's fine, though. Got out of it a few months ago. Crazy stuff."

"Oh? That's great! Did you go to college, Derek?"

Derek gives Stiles a good natured eye roll before answering. "Yes, but nowhere around here. I had a lot of stuff to get away from."

"I understand that. Where'd you go?"

"Up to Washington State, actually. Western Washington University."

"Oh, wow, a couple states away. That must've been a fun drive. That's a four-year college, isn't it? When did you graduate high school?"

"I was seventeen when I graduated, actually. I didn't finish college, though. I left right away for it, but issues with my sister called me back. Other than that, I've lived here at Beacon Hills my entire life."

Stiles gives a crooked smile. "Vacations up to places with snow, though."

Derek smiles back. "Definitely places with lots of snow."

"Did you guys ever go snowboarding?"

"I did, but Peter was always more of a skier."

Stiles snorts. "I can't even picture him on skis."

"Neither can I and I've actually seen him."

The rest of the evening goes pretty much the same. There's the occasional awkward comment, but Stiles does his best to change the subject afterwards. Under the circumstances, everything goes amazing. Derek smiles—really smiles, not just faking it for his dad—and he _blushed_ and Stiles is never going to get tired of that color in his cheeks and dinner is great and Derek helps Stiles do the dishes like he usually does but now his dad is watching so it's a little bit more impressive. And somehow, some way, everything is going to be perfect.

"Alriiiight!" his dad says excitedly as they finish dessert. "Time to break out the baby pictures!"

Or not.

* * *

End chapter notes: 1) *Sings* Seeeeeex! 2) I just gotta say I'm really proud with my rendition of Stiles' dad. Anyway, the end of chapter 13! Know what tomorrow is? Saturday. Shit's gonna get real and I'm very excited to write about it. I'm hoping you're also excited to read it :P Also, about WWU. It's where both of my parents went, so I just sort of threw it in. Amazing campus, by the way.  
Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	14. The Turning

**14: The Turning**

Oh I'm sorry did you want a non-foreshadowing chapter title? Whoopsy-daisy! Also PS totally made up what he turns into. Well sort of…the name has been used, but I made up his appearance and whatnot.

* * *

_DEREK  
Saturday, June 15…_

When Derek wakes up the next morning, his arms and legs are still tangled up with Stiles' on the bed from when they fell asleep after dinner last night. The sheriff thought that Derek went home after baby pictures, but he really walked about halfway down the street before doubling back and sneaking in through the window. Spandex is back as well, curled up on top of their legs.

Stiles stirs as Derek does, and he feels bad until he looks at the clock to see that it's already ten. He doesn't hear another heartbeat, which means that the sheriff isn't inside. He's got today off, though, so he must be running errands.

"Ew," Stiles mutters, covering his eyes. "Sun."

Derek smiles and kisses his forehead. "Good morning to you, too."

Stiles opens his eyes to smile up at him, but Derek instantly leans away. "Stiles, oh my god, your eyes."

The teen widens them and sits up. "What? What about them?"

"They're purple." Derek instantly thinks about the dream that he had, with yellow eyes blinking blue and the blue venom dripping from sharp fangs and sharper claws. "Stiles, I think waking up triggered the turning."

Stiles whimpers unhappily and flails a little, rolling off of the other side of the bed and instantly jumping up. "They're _purple_?" he asks, looking around for a mirror. There isn't one in here, so he runs out of his room and swings into the bathroom. Derek stays right behind him, looking into the mirror behind him. "Why are they purple?" he hisses.

Derek takes a step back as the teens ears shift to points. "You're turning, Stiles. We need to get you back to your bedroom before you break something."

Stiles nods, but he looks like he's choking a little. He takes a single step before swinging back and promptly throwing up into the sink, the vomit mixed in with purple, bubbling goo that burns as it slides down the drain and gurgles in the pipes. Stiles leans back against the bathroom counter, rubbing at his jaw.

"That was disgusting and it really hurt my throat," he mumbles.

Derek takes his hand, trying not to voice the concern about the way that Stiles suddenly yawns: opening his mouth so far that his jaw actually looks like it unhinges, and his tongue is longer and looks sort of fuzzy and good god he has to say something: "Stiles, I think you've got the tongue of cat."

Stiles only glances in the mirror for a second before shaking his head. "I don't care what I look like, just get me somewhere else! We can't be inside, Derek, I'm going to go insane. Woods! We have to get to the woods."

Derek nods and grabs his hand, pulling him after him as fast as he can to get out of the front door. They're in literally nothing but sweats, but there just isn't time to change anything right now. About halfway down the stairs, Derek feels multiple things slice into his hand, and he yanks it away from Stiles' own grip.

"I'm sorry!" Stiles yells, holding up his hands where black claws have grown from them. Derek remembers an old werewolf from before the fire named Kali, and she had toenails similar. Not the same though, because she painted hers. These, though, are natural. "I didn't mean to!"

"It's fine," Derek says, grabbing his hand again. "It'll heal. Come on, we don't have much time at this rate."

Derek isn't surprised when Spandex runs out of the front door after them, leaping out just before it shuts on her. He's thankful that it's after ten, because that's just the time that early birds have gotten to work and people sleeping in haven't quite gotten the energy to get out of bed yet. Derek is running at human speed at first, but he decides to keep running faster and faster until Stiles can't keep up with him, hands still gripping tightly to each other. He cringes when he's running as fast as he can and Stiles is keeping up with him without so much as a protest, so his speed is increasing as well. What else?

Literally the moment that they get to the woods, Stiles rips his hand away from Derek's and grips his own head, giving an agonized groan. He stumbles back a little and back out of the trees, so Derek quick grabs his elbows and pulls him slowly in. Stiles moves with him, but he's gasping in pain and Derek really wants to give him a hug but that might lead to a few broken bones so he'll settle for getting him to his old place and hope for the best.

"Stiles, you're staring to stink." _Like a cat_, he leaves unsaid.

"You don't smell any better!" he hisses. Literally hisses, and when he drops his hands to glare up at him with gleaming, deep purple eyes, Derek's own eyes widen as the sight of nothing but thin, sharp fangs lining his mouth. "Fuck, my teeth hurt."

"That's because they look the same as Spandex's do."

Stiles groans and looks down at the mishibijw, who's whining low in her throat and wrapping her tail around one of his legs. "Let go," he hisses.

Usually Spandex would protest at letting go with her tail, but now she doesn't even hesitate.

The teen reaches out and takes Derek's hand again. "The lake," he says. "Take me to the lake."

Derek nods and they start running again, Stiles breathing heavily the entire way. Not because he's tired, but because he's in pain. As soon as they get to the water he bends over and vomits again, the same purple goop burning within the vomit.

"As if this place didn't smell bad enough," he mutters, dropping down to sit. He's breathing steadily now, looking at his claws and feeling his fangs and rubbing the tips of his ears. "They're furry," he whispers to himself. "Why did they have to be furry?"

Derek sits down beside him as Spandex jumps into the lake, disappearing below the water. They're not sitting there for very long, though, before Stiles is groaning and rolling into a fetal position. Derek is about to ask what's wrong, but suddenly there's a very unpleasant ripping sound, and nothing less than a tail stretches out from behind Stiles and flicks into the air. It's all black and furry, but something about it just looks…off.

"Good lord," Stiles mutters, sitting up to look at it as well. "Are those spikes?"

Ah, that's it. The tail isn't furry, it's just lined with so many tiny little spikes that it looks like it is. The spikes are facing towards him as well, so all he'll have to do to tear at someone's flesh is wrap the tail around something and then pull it back towards him.

"As bad as this is going," Derek says as he rubs a hand over his arm, "it's could be a lot worse. You've still got your mind to you, which means that you're not going to go looking for Aibell."

"Not yet," Stiles grits out, suddenly in pain for a different reason. "I'm sure it'll come, though."

"What will come?" a new voice asks slyly from somewhere in the surrounding trees, and Derek has never jumped up so fast in his life.

Derek growls at whatever it is before sniffing the air. It has a smell, which means it's not the banshees, but he can also tell that it's not the sirens. Which means…

Chris Argent walks out of the trees with a very large gun, smirking a little. Three other hunters step out from various other points, all of the guns trained directly on him. "You shouldn't have done that, Derek. Stiles was the only human left that I actually liked."

Derek mashes his teeth, but he keeps all of his wolf features back. "You think _I_ did this?" he yells, motioning down to him. Maybe he sort of did it to him, but not _this_. Jackson got turned into the kanima because of something Lydia's banshee form put into him, and Stiles is turning into whatever this is because of the hidebehind. "He's got a _tail_! There are bigger forces at work than just werewolves and humans, Chris!"

The hunter actually stops at that, motioning to the others to do the same. "That really is a tail?" he asks.

"YES IT'S A FUCKING TAIL!" Stiles snarls, pushing up by his hands to glare at him.

Chris actually takes a step back. "What's happening to him?"

Derek drops back down on his knees, confident that the hunters are on his side for the moment. "It's very complicated, but let's just say that he was attacked by more than a single animal."

"This isn't like the kanima, is it?"

"No, nothing like that. He's becoming catlike."

Stiles vomits again, and the four hunters give disgusted looks.

"What's that purple stuff?" one of them asks. Derek is pretty sure that his name is Connor, but he doesn't really care at this point.

"Venom from one of the things that bit him," Derek says, gripping onto Stiles' shoulders to roll him onto his back. It's starting to drip from his mouth as well, and Derek curses himself for having literally no idea how to help him.

Chris motions to something to other hunters before coming closer, but Derek holds a hand up. "I wouldn't do that," he says. "He's already slit me in a couple of places and he actually likes me."

The hunter looks like he's about to say something, but suddenly Stiles is arching his back so high up that his spin sounds like it's breaking. He screams in pain, and at that, the water bursts up to reveal Spandex leaping out of it to stand beside him.

"Good god!" Chris says, taking quick steps back.

"Don't shoot it!" Derek yells at him. "This is a good one."

"How many things _are_ there?" Chris asks darkly, gun again pointing at him.

Derek rolls his eyes, looking back at the way that bones are still popping around in Stiles' body as he turns. "Shoot me later, okay? We have to do something to help him!"

One of the hunters steps up beside Chris. "We could shoot him."

Derek's eyes blaze red. "Point that gun at anyone but me and I'll rip all your throats out."

The hunter starts to laugh, but Chris elbows him. "We're not going to shoot him, Indio. Go stand back with Connor before whatever he's turning into cuts you in half like Gerard always threatened to do."

Indio grumbles a little as he walks away, and Chris rolls his eyes. "New guys," he mutters, stepping closer. "What _happened_, Derek?"

Stiles screams again, and Derek holds tighter to his shoulders. "I can't explain it in a few short words, Chris!" he yells.

The hunter eyes him. "_Try_."

Derek is about to, but that's when the rest of hell breaks loose. Spandex's eyes literally widen and she flips around to dive into the lake again, and then Stiles is ripping away from Derek's grip, flipping into a standing position and moaning deep in his throat like the mishibijw did on the roof.

Derek quick stands and backs up, and Chris follows suit, both of their shoulders bumping into each other and neither of them caring. Stiles stays facing for the river for a few seconds, the noise growing louder and louder, but then it stops and he spins around to face Derek and the hunter. His eyes are blazing purple, but now his fangs are beginning to drip as well. He looks crazed, with wide eyes and his hair mussed up from sleeping and the very tip of his tail is flicking back and forth.

"Venom?" Chris whispers.

"To us, yeah," Derek says back. "Stiles?" he tries.

Whatever Stiles has become tilts his head a little, and at Derek's voice, the scars on his side from his teeth glow a light purple. Chris definitely notices, but he doesn't say anything, and Derek is glad for that since he has absolutely no time to explain it.

"Stiles, it's me," he says, forcing the red in his eyes to go away. "It's Derek."

At that, Stiles drops down into a crouch, back arched downwards and tail sticking straight into the air. He hisses at him, spraying purple venom, and his ears lie back flat.

"Definitely catlike," Connor whispers.

Wrong move. Stiles whirls at the hunter, sprinting at a speed that even Derek probably couldn't match. He's dead—ripped apart by black claws—before he even has a chance to scream, and a roar just like the wolf ones that Derek can give rips out of Stiles' lungs as he stands up and faces Indio beside him. The man scrambles backwards, but Stiles drops down again and stalks towards him, ears still flat and fangs still dripping. Derek notices that his claws are beginning to leave purple marks on the forest floor as well, and the venom burns through the leaves.

Chris whips his gun up and fires a shot at Stiles, but instead of being hit and then snarling, he whips around so quickly that…

Derek's jaw drops, and Chris instantly lowers his gun with the same look. Stiles literally spun around and bit the bullet out of the air. He moved so quickly that his fangs came down and smashed the bullet into pieces, and then he spat them out at his feet.

"Are we gonna die?" Chris asks as he starts to back up.

Derek nods, doing the same. "We are definitely going to die."

They take off running at the same moment, sprinting into the forest. The last thing he hears is a large splash (probably Spandex), and he doesn't know what happens to Indio or the third hunter, but he doesn't really care. He's faster than Chris, but the hunter doesn't fall back as fast as most humans would. That's expected from a hunter, but it's still impressive.

Derek stops when he gets outside of the forest, backing into the road and just barely missing behind hit by a car. It blares its horn and he gets yelled at through a window, but Derek doesn't even care. He's using every sense he can for anything, but the only thing he can find is Chris running towards him. The human comes out a few moments later, breathing heavy and without his gun.

"Indio is probably dead," he pants, "but Landon could have gotten away. He hasn't even been out of his mind for ten minutes and he's already killed two people. Derek, we need to do something."

Derek doesn't really like the word "we", but he knows that he's going to need his help for this. It's banshees, hidebehinds, Spandex, _and_ Stiles against werewolves, and then there may even be a third party of sirens if they don't just sit back and watch. They need all of the help they can get without alerting everybody else in the city that there's a crazed catlike teenager running around the woods and probably soon the city.

"Alright," he says. "Another truce while we've got more shit going on?"

Chris nods and holds his hand out, and Derek reaches his own out to shake it.

"I've got to get some boys together, and you've got your own pack to wrangle up. Where should we meet?"

"I'm not about to take you to any of our hiding spots," Derek says, "so…your place?"

"I'm not bringing Allison into this, she doesn't nee—"

Derek doesn't care if the only human in the entirety of the two packs gets in trouble. "She's already in it, Chris. She knows everything. Her and Scott have been back together for ages."

Chris starts to cuss at him, but Derek waves it off.

"Punish her when people aren't in danger, okay? We'll meet up at your place as soon as we can, which will be within the next ten minutes. Don't make us wait."

He nods. "Trust me, I'm not about to let you monsters in my house without me."

They take off in different directions, Derek back to his car so he can speed to Scott's. It doesn't take long to gather everyone up, and he doesn't have to explain anything. They all know that today was when Bianca said Stiles would change, so they know that it's their once human friend that's the issue. It doesn't take long for Derek and the eight others in the two packs (Lydia and Allison included) to get to Chris' place. Allison was already out with Scott, so her dad gives her a stern glare that she gives a single guilty look to before pointedly ignoring it. Chris has his own friends around, matching their werewolf numbers.

"This isn't a short story," Derek says as he's leaning his back against the fireplace. Everyone else is scattered around, the wolves mixed into the hunters both on the couch or standing or sitting on the stairs. It's only because of the truce, but even so, all of them are on edge. "Those of you standing might just want to sit down on the floor." All of his werewolves already are, having been told most of the story already.

"If it's all the same to you," Chris says, leaning an arm against the fireplace as well, "some of us are just going to stay standing."

"Who cares if they get tired!" Scott says angrily. "What happened to _Stiles_?!"

Derek gives him a little glare before putting it away. He's just as angry and scared as Scott is, he's just a lot better at keeping it to himself. "Who of the hunters here knows anything about banshees, hidebehinds, sirens, and/or underwater panthers?"

Every last one of their faces is completely blank. What a great start.

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES…_

The last thing Stiles remembered before he felt like every bone in his body was breaking was Derek holding his shoulders down at the lake. After that…blank. Now Stiles is waking up slowly, moaning unhappily. He feels the ground around him and decides that it's concrete, so he forces his eyes open. Judging by the three giant walls surrounding him and the nasty smelling garbage bin beside him, he's in an ally.

He pushes up slowly, his entire body sore. He swallows tightly when he sees that his hands have blood on them, and then he forces himself to stand. He steps backwards to turn around and get out of this place, but he steps on something soft and…

He leaps away at a pained moan, scrambling up the side of the garbage bin and not turning around until he's securely on top of it. The sight makes him want to hurl… It's a body so torn and bloody that Stiles can't even make out his face, and that moan meant that whoever it is is still _alive_.

"Oh god," he whimpers, leaning over to vomit over the edge. It comes out with purple again, and he coughs unpleasantly. He did that. Whatever he turned into helped him do it, and now there's no way the guy is going to survive and if it were Stiles he would be begging for death. Maybe he's trying to, but he's just in so much pain that he…can't.

"There is no need to be sick, child," a voice says to him, and Stiles snaps his head over to see his three least favorite people in the entire world: Aibell, Zuri, and Krii. They're all in their solid forms, walking slowly towards him on bear feet. He feels strangely…calm, though. He knows that he should be trying to run, and he can find plenty of reasons why, but…his heartbeat is steady, and so is his breathing.

"Get away from me," he says, pressing up against the wall. "I'll scream. I'm no banshee, but Derek will hear me. We're mates now."

Zuri chuckles, shimmering into her spirit form and floating up to kneel "on" the lid of the garbage gin beside him.

Stiles cringes away, but he knows that he can't go anywhere. Just like his dream.

At that, a misty black creature falls down from the sky to land on the concrete beside the almost dead body, and Stiles recognizes it as one of the hidebehinds.

"You remember Fela, don't you?" Aibell asks, moving into her spirit form as well so she can float over to Stiles' side, just beyond the edge of the garbage bin. "Even if you don't, I know one part of you that does." She points at his side.

Stiles swallows tightly and looks down at his side, the scar marks glowing a very light purple. "But…but those are Derek's teeth marks."

"The alphas fangs, maybe, but he's not the one that turned you into _this_." She holds her hand palm up, and a little spirit figure forms in her palm. Stiles can tell that it's him from his hair, but he looks away before he can look too closely at anything else.

"Leave me alone," he says again.

"Oh, we can't do _that_," Krii says, stepping over to kneel beside Fela and the dead body. "Poor Landon here is still alive, after all."

"We don't want to hurt you, either," Aibell says, resting a ghostly hand on his shoulder. "We only want to bring you with us. We want to be indestructible, you see, and we need your help for that."

Stiles pulls away from her hand even though he can't feel it while she's in that form. "I'll never help you," he says darkly.

She gives an evil smile, and both Zuri and Krii are laughing as Krii goes into her spirit form and the two of them float up above them. Stiles looks up after them, now noticing the other two hidebehinds swimming through the air beside them.

"Yes you will," Aibell says, dropping _out_ of her spirit form and walking over to stand at Landon's feet. "Finish him."

"No!" Stiles yells, but something in him gives a pull. He says it again to reassure himself, but…

"_Kill him_," Aibell screams, and just like before, her hair flies up and her eyes burn red.

And just like that, Stiles' focus is draining away. The last thing he remembers is jumping off of the garbage bin, and then he's forced into the same complete and total darkness that he was before.

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

The hunters are silent for a lot shorter than Derek and the wolves were when they found out about everything from the sirens, but Derek wishes they were quieter when they do finally talk, because all 7 of them talk at once:

"She has over a _thousand_ banshees working under her?"

"The fountain of youth is a _golden ash apple_?"

"You mean _that_ redhead is housing the only thing that stands in our way from saving every last person in the city?"

"But why is their venom _purple_?"

"Eight-hundred and seventeen _years_?"

"That doesn't seem like much of a truce if the hidebehinds are just doing everything that the banshees tell them to do."

And Chris is last: "But what about—good god, all of you, shut up." He shakes his head, just like he did for Indio earlier. Guy's probably dead, now. The only reason Derek feels bad is because Stiles was the one to do it and he didn't even know he was doing it. "What about the exorcism that you and Peter wanted to try? Did you ever find something that could catch the spirit once it left the body?"

"_Her_ body," Lydia says darkly. "And _she_ has a name."

Chris gives an apologetic look. "Sorry, Lydia."

She nods. "Accepted."

"No, we never did," Peter says, interrupting their little moment.

He chuckles, looking over at Derek. "We should have come for you guys in the woods earlier. We've got something perfect for that."

Derek narrows his eyes. "You're joking."

"I'm not joking." He looks at one of the six other hunters. "Edna, go get the gentian powder."

Edna nods before coming back momentarily, a very large jar in his hands. There's nothing in it but what looks like violet ashes (only a bit more blue than wolfsbane, but he can smell that it's not), but when Derek looks closer, it's almost glowing.

"_This_," Chris says, "is the _Gentiana verna_. Its ashes, in any case." He sets it up above the fireplace. "Though it looks like certain colors of the wolfsbane plant, it has absolutely no effect on creatures that are affected by the full moon. This plant affects creatures that are part spirit, ghost, or the like. It works the same way that mountain ash does."

Scott frowns. "You guys just keep a whole bunch of different ashes in jars for whatever might come this way?"

Chris glances over at him. "Yes, actually. Mistletoe, mountain ash, this spring gentian, the staghorn clubmoss for creatures that can only come out at night, cherry tree leaves for creatures that can only come out during the day… All sorts of things." He waves a hand. "It's not important. What is important, though, is that all we have to do is sit Lydia in a chair in a middle of the ring of this and Sadb won't be able to get out, but Lydia will. Sadb could fly up as high as she wants and it won't do a thing. The problem with that, though, is that we'll need Stiles to control the mishibijw to kill her, and I don't have a plan for that."

"We don't need the mishibijw to kill her," one of the hunters says.

Chris raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Tell us, then, Kurt."

He bites his bottom lip. "I'm not Kurt."

Chris frowns. "What do you mean 'you're not Kurt'."

The hunter looks at Derek. "Promise you won't kill me and I'll show myself. Kurt is safe. He's tied up back at his own home. I want to help."

Derek growls low in his throat. "Reveal yourself and I'll think about it."

The man rolls his eyes, and with a shimmer and few cracked knuckles, Bianca is standing before them. All of the werewolves instantly unsheathe their wolf features, and the hunters hold up their guns.

"Who's this?" Chris asks, a gun in each hand.

"Bianca," Derek snarls. "She's the one that told me Stiles had three days after they made me bite him."

The guns all click menacingly.

She swallows tightly.

"Not so tough without your pack, are you?" Derek asks, clicking his claws together.

She bites her bottom lip again and looks over at Isaac. "Isaac, please."

Derek's most loyal beta glares at her from where he's curled up in a corner of one of the couches. He's the only one that didn't shift, but his arms are holding tightly around how his legs are pulled up to his chest, so he's not going to get up and help her either. "You really think I can trust you?" he snaps. "After what you did to Stiles?"

"I didn't do anything to Stiles!" she yells frantically. "Emma _made_ us!"

Derek holds a hand up for everyone else to stay quiet. "What do you mean _Emma_ made you?"

"Julia's not the real leader, Emma is. We pretend that Julia is so that anyone going after us will kill Julia first since they'll think she's our leader. She's not, though I wish she was. Emma isn't nice to us. I'm here because…" She trails off, having trouble forming words.

"Spit it out, you _bitch_," Erica snarls.

Bianca actually flinches. Was everything else just a show? Is the siren really just shy and quiet? Either that or she's just this way because she's here against Emma's orders… "I'm here because Emma killed Mason for refusing her."

Everyone frowns silently.

"Why would she kill one of her betas?" Jackson asks at length.

Derek tries not to answer him, because there are plenty of times that he'd like to kill that asshole.

"It was just after we made Derek bite Stiles," she says, playing with her fingers. "He's always had trouble with her, but he's been very good at hiding it. We don't _want_ to kill Lydia, Derek!" she says frantically. "We just want Sadb dead! If you can do that without hurting Lydia, _don't hurt her_. Emma likes death. She's not the only one that wants to take over the world, and I think that she's secretly working _with_ Aibell. A deal, maybe, to share the apple and rule together. I don't know. It's just a theory. But she killed one of us, and the others weren't brave enough to come with me. Milo was loyal to her, but after she killed his brother he knows he's going to have nothing to do with her. Julia never liked her much either for being chosen to be the one to die first if they're ever attacked, but she was in love with Mason, so she's not about to let it go."

Derek puffs in a deep breath. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Bianca's eyes flash to Isaac, but Scott steps between them, so she just looks back at Derek. "Because I can give you information," she says. "And also because you can hear my heartbeat. I don't know how to snap Stiles out of the trance that Aibell has him in from the bite of the hidebehind, but I do know that he can kill Sadb as well."

"Wait," Boyd says. "I thought Stiles controlled those things now."

Bianca shakes her head. "No, not yet. Not until the full moon."

Everyone frowns, and she frowns back.

"Wait, do you guys not know what he is yet?"

The room stays silent.

She snorts. "With the bite of both a hidebehind _and_ a werewolf, he's been turned into a—"

"I swear to god," Jackson says, holding a finger up, "if you say _werecat_…"

She leans against the wall behind her. "Bingo."

Half of the room groans.

"_Were_cats?" one of the hunters says, lowering his gun. "Seriously?"

"It doesn't matter!" Allison says loudly. "Does anybody have _any_ idea how to snap Stiles out of the trance long enough to have him kill her? Even if it's for a short time, Aibell and all of her banshees will be destroyed, so the spell won't come back afterwards."

Peter crosses his arms. "We could use Derek as bait."

Chris frowns. "Why would we use _Derek_ as bait?"

"Because they're mates," Scott answers.

Derek sighs as Chris turns to look at him. "What?" he asks, incredulous. "Stiles is your _mate_? You didn't tell us that."

Derek glares at him. "It wasn't important."

"We could use that to our advantage!"

"Yes, and you will as soon as this truce is over!"

"Which still doesn't matter right now!" Allison says louder than before. "Peter, continue."

He turns to Bianca. "They are still mates, right? Stiles may not be a werewolf, but a werecat is literally the next closest thing."

She nods. "Yes, they are still mates. They're not going to be able to feel the trueness of their pull until the full moon, though, so right now they just can't stand each other's smell."

He nods and turns back to the others. "They still do feel the pull, though, just at an underlying state. If we could somehow lure that state out, maybe he'll snap out of it long enough to kill her."

"Blood would probably work," Isaac says, coming out of his balled up position to stand beside everyone else. Something about him finally moving sets all of them at a bit more ease, and all of the hunters finally lower their guns, and the werewolves put away their wolf features. Derek's eyes stay red, but Erica's stay yellow as well, so he's not the only one that's still skeptical. Bianca's heartbeat hasn't risen once, though, so he'll trust her enough to listen to her.

"How much blood are we thinking here?" Derek asks.

"Not much. A cut and a quick wipe of it across the bark of a tree. We could lure him into a circle of mountain ash, and then one of the hunters could close it up."

"And _then_ what?" Jackson asks. "Wait out the trance?"

Isaac grits his teeth before turning back to face Bianca. Obviously he had a thing for her too, but then it got blown after turning Stiles. Derek can't help but frown to himself. He and Stiles always argue, Scott and Allison argue (about stupid things, but still), Jackson and Lydia argue (about _really_ stupid things; Derek has never even seen the Notebook), Erica and Boyd argue (mostly about pack related things), and now Isaac and Bianca argue. What is it about werewolves and people that they can't stand half of the time?

"Do you have any ideas after that?" he asks.

Bianca swallows tightly, her heart beginning to speed up. She really does feel bad about it, and if Derek can tell, then so can his beta. "One, but I don't think it's going to get him out of the trance. His underlying need for his mate will cause him, even under the spell, to want to protect him at all costs, and if he's weak enough for it, he might even obey him. Derek will have to be inside of the ring of mountain ash with him, but…" She shrugs. "It could work, and it's all I've got. We'd have to get Stiles to come during the middle of the day, when the sun is at its peak, so the moon is at its weakest."

Derek nod and looks around. "Anybody else have an idea?"

But the room stays silent, so he sighs.

"Tomorrow, then," he says. "We'll lure him at noon, and I've got just the place."

Erica frowns at him. "But Derek, it's the best place we've got for—"

"I know," he says, holding a hand up. "But it's also the safest place for something as dangerous as this. We can't have pedestrians wandering in to be taken over by Sadb next. We'll find somewhere else when this is all over."

Chris raises an eyebrow. "Your secret werewolf lair?"

Derek nods. "Not so secret for much longer. Gather everything up and I'll show you where it is."

* * *

End chapter notes: Totally made everything up about the ashes it's my story I can do what I want weeee. And yes I know that mountain ash is actually a tree and not the ash of a mountain the otherwearer interpreted, but whatever. In other news, it's the end of chapter 14! We're nearing our end, people... A few more chapters and an epilogue and then it's over. I also may be lying about that though because I tend to say "ok almost done" and then write another 50 pages so I hope you're excited for my maybe lie. Either, way I'm 163 Word document pages in so far and I have no regrets! Anyway.  
Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	15. The Melding

**15: The Melding**

_STILES  
Sunday (middle of the day), June 16…_

Stiles is curled up in a pile of catlike monsters when he feels it, dragging him out of sleep. His mishibijw is closest, with her tail wrapped around his waist, and the three hidebehinds surround him next. He usually wouldn't leave them, but that smell… It smells like pain. Like blood. Stiles likes blood. He shakes his head back and forth. No, that didn't sound right. He doesn't like blood. Yes he does. Doesn't he? He must love it if he's drenched in it.

He shakes his head again, searching for that scent of pain again. He wants more of the pain, but not from where it's coming from. He frowns as he begins to move up, but the mishibijw gives him a tired, sad look.

Stiles purrs at her, dragging his tongue across her cheek. "Do you smell it too?" he asks.

She gives a little signal for no, and Stiles frowns.

"You don't? That's odd." He continues standing, accidentally waking Fela, Sakriti, and Cuddio in the process. "Sorry," he whispers, stepping over them. They just shift closer to each other and go straight back to sleep, though, so maybe he's not sorry at all.

"Where are you going, kitty?"

Stiles ears perk up at Aibell's voice, and he turns around with a smile. "I smell something," he says as she floats in front of him before turning into her solid form.

"And what does it smell like?" she asks, reaching up to scratch lightly under his chin. God, he lives for that spot beneath the chin…

"Blood," he says around a purr.

"Oh, your favorite?"

He nods. Yes, that's why he likes it. Because Aibell told him he did. He almost forgot.

"A wounded hunter, maybe?"

"Maybe. Can I go find it?"

"Only if you promise to come straight back when you've finished."

He nods fervently. "Straight back, I promise."

She smiles. "And then a bath, yes?"

He cringes, lowering his ears and pulling away from her hand. "In water?"

"You like water."

Oh, well in that case… He smiles, leaning back to nuzzle against her shoulder. "As soon as I'm back, then. Can I take 'Dex?"

"No, leave her here. She'll be waiting for you."

He nods, looking down at the mishibijw to tell her that she needs to let go before he climbs out of the second story window in the house that he's in. It's green and white and reminds Stiles of the trees in the forest, and big and tall and shaped like a castle. There are three stories, but Stiles sleeps on the second with the other monsters because the top floor is off limits. He's not sure why; he's never asked.

It's bright and warm out, and it makes Stiles tired as he slinks through yards and behind cars, but he doesn't stop. The smell smells…good. Something he wants more of, but not more of the pain. Not something he wants to rip open and get more, but something he just wants to smell and…hold. Is that weird? That sounds weird. It's probably weird. He hopes that Aibell doesn't find out.

He doesn't see any people because he hides from them, because that's what Aibell tells him to do. He's not supposed to be seen because he's a monster. It's sort of fun hiding from people. Stiles likes to slink behind things and watch people with gleaming eyes. He knows that they're purple because he can see his reflection in things, and his fangs are sharp and his tongue looks fuzzy and his ears _are_ fuzzy and the same color as his hair.

Stiles follows the smell of the good blood until he finds a gathering of abandoned buildings, but there are a whole bunch of cars parked around it and Stiles can smell a lot of humans hiding in places with their guns trained on him. He doesn't really care, since he can eat bullets, so he moves right passed them and towards the smell some more. He ends up at a pair of stairs, and something about it is familiar, but not familiar enough to stop and question it.

He moves down the stairs on just his back legs, scratching at his ear as he walks over a pretty indigo colored ash line and also an ugly black one that he doesn't really like the smell of; there's a break in the black line, but he ignores it. The smell is stronger down here, and it's much better up close.

The ugly ash line comes down the stairs at both sides and into a big circle in the middle of the room, and the pretty ash line is right beside it, except that it gets a lot bigger than the ugly line when it gets out to the main room of the warehouse. The pretty line is bigger because there's a chair sitting in it, and there's no one sitting in the chair, but it's burnt and there are things carved into it and there's also things painted around the chair. Stiles doesn't know what they're for, but he doesn't suppose it matters very much.

All of the sudden a man comes down the stairs, and with a handful he completes the ugly ash line. Stiles instantly feels slightly claustrophobic, and he realizes that he's trapped inside of the ugly line. He snarls at the man, but even as he throws himself towards him, a blue light blows him backwards. He flips in time to land on all fours, and he quick stands up to bare his fangs at the man. He looks very relieved, lowering his gun.

Stiles moans deep in his throat, his ears laid back and tail flicking angrily.

Suddenly there are a whole lot more people around him, and he presses himself up against a pillar inside of the ugly line. A lot of them smell _really_ bad, but some of them just smell like humans, and all of them are looking at him with wide, confused eyes, and some of them are whispering things to each other.

"Is that blood?" a blonde girl (she's one of the ones who smells bad, with glowing yellow eyes) whispers to a dark skinned boy who smells equally bad.

"The _real_ question," another bad smelling wolf says, "is how _much_ blood is that, and whose is it?"

"Jackson!" a pretty, human girl with strawberry blonde hair hisses at him.

"Good god," a human man whispers, and Stiles can smell the leader on him. "What did Aibell make him _do_?"

Stiles tilts his head, walking to the very edge of the ugly line so he can stand right in front of him. "Aibell?" he asks, ears twitching. "You know my master?"

The man sighs. "And there's the trance we were looking for," he says, lowering his gun. It's the biggest one that Stiles has seen so far. "Stiles, it's me. It's Chris Argent, Allison's father."

Stiles wrinkles his nose up and takes a step back. "I don't know you."

"Brainwashed?" a pretty human girl with dark hair asks the man called Chris.

"No, it's probably just the spell." He looks passed Derek and up at the ceiling. "You're up, Derek."

Derek. Stiles knows that name. Doesn't he? No, maybe not. But it's such a nice name…

He turns around just in time to see a man drop down from the rafters above him, putting his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. His hair is dark and his eyes are green, and he smells…

Stiles frowns, his ears switching back and forth from laid back to perked up, and his tail just circles around his leg in confusion. He smells terrible, like a _wolf_, but he also smells like…like perfection. It's the smell that Stiles smelled before, but now it's mixed in with the bad smell. He wants to lick the bad parts away and just hold the good parts; he wants to attack the man, but he also wants to give him a hug, and he wants to moan deep in his throat, but he also wants to purr.

He whimpers, pressing tighter to the pillar. "What are you?" he whispers. He wanted to hiss it, but it didn't really work.

"Stiles, it's me," the man says, taking his hands out of his pockets. "It's Derek."

Stiles ends up with one ear laid back and the other one up high, and his tail moves to wrap around the pole. "I…I don't know a Derek."

"Yes you do," he says, taking a step towards him. "How would I know you when you don't know me?"

Stiles wrinkles his nose up, trying to process that. He wishes that Spandex was with him. She would know what to do. She always seems to know more than Stiles does, and sometimes it makes him mad, because _he's_ the boss of her. Right now, though, he wishes he had her insight.

The man called Derek holds a palm up, and claws unsheathe from his nails. Stiles frowns, looking down at his own. They look different; Derek's are a dull yellow and Stiles' are black. Not as black as night, but more like the color of the ugly line that's trapping him in here.

"That's right," Derek says, pulling his attention back to him. "We're the same." He holds a claw against his own arm and presses hard.

Blood begins to spill from his arm, and Stiles finds himself standing right in front of him in under a second. "Don't do that," he whispers, taking a hold of the arm on either side of the hole. It starts to close up, though, and Stiles finds himself smiling. He wants the blood, but…he wants it to stay inside of Derek. He can't remember ever feeling that. Why does he smell so good?

"Don't do what?" Derek asks, pressing the claw to his arm again. This time he digs it in deeper and drags it upwards.

Stiles hisses at him, batting the hand away. He wants to pull the arm away completely and cradle it against him so Derek can't hurt it anymore, but he can't because they're connected. "Don't do _that_," he growls. "Don't bleed."

"You're literally covered in blood, Stiles," he says quietly. "It's matted into your hair and covering your clothes. It's dried and it honestly looks like you're covered in shit. But it is blood, and you don't seem to mind it.

Stiles frowns up at him. "Aibell says that I like blood."

"Do you have to do everything that she tells you to do?"

Stiles nods fervently. "She's my master. Without her I'll die."

"And who told you that?"

"She did."

"How do you know she's not lying?"

Stiles frowns, lying both ears flat. "Because I trust her."

"Why?"

"Because she made me."

"She didn't make you, Stiles. I made you."

Stiles frowns, taking a step back (but not letting go of his arm). "No you didn't."

"Yes, I did. Look at your side. Those are my teeth marks."

Stiles frowns, dropping his arm to pull his shirt up. The scar marks on his side are glowing a light purple, like it's trying to be the same color as his eyes and is failing. "No," he says, shoving the shirt back down. "No, I—you didn't make me. Aibell did. She told me she made me. She doesn't lie to me."

"Can you hear my heartbeat, Stiles?"

Stiles frowns, but his ears to perk up. "Yes."

"I'm going to tell you a truth, and then I'm going to tell you a lie, and I want you to tell me the difference between how my heart sounds when I say them. Okay?"

Stiles steps back in front of him. "Okay."

"My name is Derek Hale. My favorite color is orange."

Stiles scowls. "It stayed the same, but then it got faster."

"That's what happens when people lie. Their heartbeat speeds up. Aibell doesn't have a heartbeat when she's in her spirit form, but she does when she's solid."

Stiles drops his arm and takes a few steps back. "You're a werewolf. Why should I trust you?"

"Because I'm not the one lying to you. What's my real favorite color?"

Stiles shakes his head. "I don't know you. Why would I know your favorite color?"

"Because you _do_ know me, Stiles. You know me better than any person on this whole planet. _What_ is my favorite _color_?"

Stiles shakes his head, reaching his hands up to hold it.

And then Derek is slicing his arm again.

"IT'S WHITE!" Stiles snarls, grabbing both of his wrists so he can't hurt _either_ of his arms. "Stop _doing_ that!"

Derek gives a little smile. "But Aibell says that you like blood. Don't you want me to bleed?"

"I don't want _you_ to bleed," he mutters, lifting the arm up to watch it heal itself again.

"Why not?"

Stiles swallows tightly and drops both of the arms, stepping back again. "I…I don't know."

Derek doesn't let him back any further, though. He grabs the sides of his face and pulls him forward, kissing him hard. Stiles' eyes widen, and he wants to try and rip Derek apart, but he also wants to taste him more and…and…

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

Derek can hear every last one of the hunters give a disgusted sound at the kiss, but he doesn't care. He needs Stiles back, not just because they need to destroy Sadb's spirit form (which is currently floating somewhere among the rafters, not strong enough in her half-banshee form to go much longer without a body; the exorcism worked, and soon she'll be too tired to even conceal herself, so everyone will be able to see her spirit form lying broken and tired on the floor of the warehouse), but because Derek can feel the pull. It's not as strong as it's going to be when the full moon rolls along, but he does feel it, and it's even worse when he's nearby Stiles and he _can't just have him_.

Something suddenly changes in the kiss, though, and Derek pulls away to see that all of Stiles' werecat features are morphing away. His eyes are drifting shut and he's becoming heavy in Derek's arms, so he quick wraps his arms around him completely and sits down on the floor, waiting for every last feature to disappear completely.

Stiles gives an unhappy groan, and a hand comes up to bat at the air. "Derek?" he asks. "What the hell? Why am I in the warehouse?"

Derek gives a relieved sigh, and at that, Allison kicks at the mountain ash line so that even the werewolves can come rushing in. Stiles gives a very surprised wide-eyed look, not at all ready for over ten people to rush out of nowhere and asking him if he's okay or if he remembers anything or telling him that he's covered in blood and had purple eyes and a _tail_.

"Oh my gooood!" he yells, flailing his limps until he's standing. "I know I'm not as claustrophobic as Isaac, but _geez_, give me some spa—" He stops, looking down at himself. "Holy shit, is this blood?"

Derek nods. "Indio and Landon's blood, but not all of it. There's a pretty good chance that your dad's good mood about no dead bodies is going to change, Stiles."

Stiles chokes a little. "I killed people?" he squeaks. "I _killed_ people?"

Derek is instantly at his side again, an arm around his waist to hold him up. Everyone is soothing him except the hunters, who look like they're trying to decide between if Stiles is still a friend or if they have to start hunting him down now too.

Suddenly, though, Derek's mate is grinning over at Scott. "You can remember everything that you can do as a wolf, but now _I_ can't remember anything that I do as a cat monster. Who's the Hulk now, bitch?"

Scott snorts, but Erica moves to throw her arms around his neck. "I prefer Batman," she says.

Stiles smiles at her hair. "Are you crying?"

"I'm trying really hard not to."

He pats her back. "Missed you too, 'Rica."

Chris catches Derek's eye with a motion of his head. "Maybe a little moving on there, Derek?"

Derek nods, pulling Stiles a few steps away from everyone. "Stiles, we need you to kill Sadb."

Stiles frowns. "Huh?"

"You're the only one who can because of your werecat form—"

"I'm a _werecat_ now?"

"Shh. Do you think you could put out your claws without letting Aibell's spell come over you again?"

Stiles mashes his lips together. "I don't know, I've never tried it. I've only come out of her spell once since the first change, and it was only for a few minutes. I haven't had any time to try anything. I don't know what anything does."

"Do you think you could try?"

He purses his lips. "Try? Yeah, I could try. I don't know if it's gonna do anything, though."

"Try to make it do something."

Stiles takes a deep breath and holds a hand up, concentrating. His eyebrows furrow when he peeks one eye open for a second and nothing has happened, but Derek just rolls his eyes and kisses his temple to—

The claws unsheathe from both hands, and Stiles' eyes open wide. "It worked! I'm still here!"

Chris gives Derek an amused look. "Looks like this mate thing is going to come in more handy than we thought."

The two packs (Derek wonders what it's like for Scott to have an all human group of betas who don't really listen to him at all) turn to glare at him, so he gives an innocent smile and steps back.

"Only kidding," he says.

"Bullshit," Allison mutters.

"Hey, who told you that you could—"

"Good lord, shut up," Stiles says, walking away from everyone. "I thought I had an ancient spirit to kill or something."

Derek nods. "Everyone back up out of the rings. This may or may not get ugly."

Everyone does but Derek and Stiles, and then Chris bends down to put the line of mountain ash back together.

"Right," Stiles says, looking down at his claws. "That is a lot of dried blood, yuck. How am I supposed to do this?"

"Just slice her like you would anybody else," Bianca says.

Stiles stares over at her and glares. "What is _she_ doing here?" he asks darkly.

"She's helping us now," Isaac says, standing a good yard away from her. They haven't been any closer this whole time, Bianca giving him space and Isaac deciding if he wants to punch her in the throat or not.

Stiles shakes his head. "Whatever, I can voice my opinion on that later. Where is Sadb, exactly?"

"You need your eyes, too," Bianca says again. "The purple eyes of the hidebehinds can see anything in the night, like ghosts and spirits and things."

Stiles sighs. "It was hard enough with the claws, you guys really think I can change my eye color?"

"Kiss him again, Derek!" one of the hunters throws out.

Derek rolls his eyes.

"Why would him kissing me help?" Stiles asks. "Now isn't the time for that."

Derek does it anyway, on the corner of his mouth.

The irises instantly change, and he blushes. "Oh," he mumbles, scratching his nose.

"I did that!" Erica says excitedly. "_I_ told them about mates!"

"_Anyway_," Stiles says, looking around. "She's…um…" He frowns, looking anywhere. "I don't see her anywhere."

Derek frowns. "What do you mean you don't see her?"

Stiles gives him a little glare. "I mean I can see her sitting up in the rafters having tea. What do you think, asshole?"

Derek rolls his eyes and looks over at Bianca. "Where is she?"

"I can't see her either," the siren says, her own eyes purple. Shape shifting abilities are very useful. "She shouldn't even be strong enough to conceal her image at all, let alone even invisible to these ey—"

"Oh my," Peter suddenly says, cutting her off.

Everyone turns to him.

"We've got company."

Derek whirls at the stairs, because now he can smell it too. "Nobody break the line!" he yells. "_Either_ of them! Wherever Sadb is, she's still in here."

At that moment, the lavender line bursts with purple light, and all three of the hidebehinds roar once before disappear back _up_ the stairs. Spandex, though, comes walking down straight passed everything and right up to Stiles.

"Aren't _you_ a sight for sore eyes," he says, dropping to his knees to hug her.

Derek takes a step back from him. "Stiles, your tail is growing again."

Stiles hisses a little. "Shit, why?"

"Because we're here now, kitty," a new voice says, and everyone whirls to the ceiling to see four banshees floating in right through it on the outside of the ash lines.

Spandex moans low in her throat, but Stiles simply stands, eyes glowing a little brighter.

Derek grabs his shoulders and shakes him. "Stiles, no!"

But it's too late. Stiles' werecat features rip out of him, throwing Derek back to slam into the flash of blue from the mountain ash.

"I found the smell!" he says excitedly. "It's the wolf!"

Bullets fly out like a flock of birds, but every last one of them goes right through the spirit forms of the four banshees.

"That's very good, kitty," Aibell says, ignoring the guns completely.

Derek wrinkles his nose up, standing up from where he landed. She calls him "kitty"? Seriously? _That's_ her nickname for him? It'd be cute if Erica called him that, maybe, but that's it.

Aibell turns to glare at Derek. "The mate _would_ use his blood to lure you here."

Stiles frowns at Derek. "Mate?" He laughs, loud and carefree. He's like an obedient child under the spell. Did Aibell do that on purpose? "We're not mates! He's a wolf and I'm a cat. We can't be mates."

As Aibell floats down beside the lavender line, everyone quick spreads out to give her plenty of room. Her feet land softly in her solid form, all of the guns trained. "Don't be foolish," she says to the hunters. "A bullet will simply pass right through me, even in this form." She turns to smile at Stiles, but her eyes find Bianca on the way. "Bianca, my _dear_. Whatever will Emma do when she hears about _this_?"

So, Emma really is working with the banshees. She tricked them all.

Bianca melts into her true form and roars at her.

Aibell chuckles. "I'll relay the message. _Now_." She turns back to the others. "Which of you humans are gong to break both of these lines so that I can take what two things in this room belong to me?"

Nobody moves.

She laughs. "Let me make myself _clear_." Snapping her fingers, two of the banshees in grey zip down to grab a hold of Allison in half solid forms and drag her away from the others.

Derek sighs at the same time that Chris is telling all of his hunters to lower their weapons.

"I'm sorry, Derek," he says, "You know they really will hurt her."

"Not us, no," Aibell says with an evil grin. "Our allies, yes." She motions towards the ceiling, and that's when the hidebehinds melt down beside her.

Unlike the others, Stiles smiles and moves to the edge of the mountain ash. And then…he's purring. He's actually purring, and the hidebehinds are purring back before they get angry about not being able to get to their true master.

"Who's going to break the lines, then?" Aibell asks as one of the hidebehinds floats up to Allison's throat, jaws wide and ready to snap down on command.

"I will," Chris says. "I'll do it."

"Dad, no," Allison says defiantly. Derek knows that she's an Argent, but he does admire her bravery. "They'll get away."

Scott steps forward as well. "It's okay, Allison. We'll get him back again. We got Sadb out of Lydia; that was step one. We're halfway there."

Derek sighs again, but he knows that they're right. He would break the line as well, if he had the power. He's not really into unnecessary deaths, not to mention the fact that Stiles would be furious at him for sacrificing Allison's life for him.

Chris spreads both of the lines at once, and Allison is instantly let go, stumbling forward and into Scott's arms. Chris glares a little, but he doesn't get a chance to say anything before multiple things happen at once: Derek backs out of the rings and against the subway car, all four of the banshees walk into the ring, the hidebehinds rush at Stiles and ball him over in their happiness, and Stiles starts to purr again. Guns are trained again, but they can't do anything. They could hold Stiles down, maybe, but then Spandex and the hidebehinds would hurt all of them. They can't do a single fucking thing but watch.

"You've done well, kitty," Aibell says, stopping beside him. Then she turns towards the stairs. "You can come down, now."

Everyone frowns at the stairs, and the werewolves growl the moment that they see it's the other three sirens. Milo's usually normal pair of clothes has changed into a cat suit similar to what Mason used to wear, Julia's entire body is without emotion (Derek can't even sense anything on her; they're just _gone_), and Emma is grinning evilly.

"Following in the footsteps of Mason, are we?" she asks Bianca as she continues over to stand beside Aibell while the other two sirens stay on the stairs.

Bianca, still in her true form, instantly morphs back into her human one and backs away, melting into the crowd of humans and werewolves.

Emma just laughs, holding her hand out to Aibell. "She's ready, then?"

Aibell nods, walking her a few steps away from the cat-pile and other banshees. "I only need a moment." She looks up into the rafters. "Sadb? Master, are you there?"

A hollow moan echoes through the warehouse, and a ghostly being drops down, landing roughly on the concrete. Derek's not sure how she was strong enough to mask herself completely, but she did it, and here she is now.

"Did you bring her?" Sadb asks, eyes without pupils and unable to move her limbs at all.

Emma steps forward. "I am she."

"My hands," Sadb whispers. "Take my hands."

Bianca suddenly rushes back to the front of the crowd, eyes wide. "Hide!" she screams. "Oh my god, _hide_!"

Nobody understands exactly why, but it seems they have a pretty good idea, so none of them protest as they do everything they can to dive behind something. Derek leaps into the subway and ducks under the windows, and less than a second later, a rush of air blasts through the warehouse. It's so strong that, to Derek's utter disappointment, the subway gets pushed over with a creak, crashing loud and dustily against the concrete.

He coughs and crawls out of the door, looking around. Everyone else is crawling out of there hiding places as well, asking if anyone is hurt.

"Are they still here?" Erica asks as she helps Boyd pull a few pieces of wood out of his skin. He must have hidden in one of the barrels. Most of the wood in the room was blasted to pieces.

"No," Scott says as he helps Allison out of their hiding spot with Chris. "She and the others left must have left with the blast."

"What happened?" Chris asks, wiping dust off of his clothes.

Bianca and Isaac drop down from the rafters. "Sadb melded with Emma's body," Bianca says. "Her spirit could only meld with a species other than a human with their permission, and Emma gave that permission. Now Emma is stronger, but she won't be Emma for long. Sadb will become a true banshee on the full moon."

"Why does everything happen on the full moon?" Jackson mutters as he fixes Lydia's hair.

"It is rather annoying, yes," Chris says.

Derek frowns, moving towards where Stiles used to be. He bends down and picks up his cell phone.

"It must have fallen out of his pocket when he was in the pile," Isaac says.

"He has a missed call from his dad," Derek says softly.

"How do we explain that he's missing without letting anybody go look for him?" one of the hunters asks.

"I'll do something," Derek says, pocketing the device.

"Well then!" Peter says brightly, his face absolutely covered in dust. Did he even try to hide? "I think that went well."

Every last person in the entire warehouse yells at him at once: "SHUT UP!"

* * *

End chapter notes: Ooh look a plot twist that I didn't mean to come up with (as in Sadb's spirit melding with Emma's body). More things spewed out I didn't mean to I'm sorry! Anyway, end of chapter 15 :) Remember every last thing that the sirens told Stiles about way back when he, Spandex, and Lydia were tied up? Well, I didn't, so I had to go back and read it. You can if you want too lol  
Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	16. When Mist Runs Red

**16: When Mist Runs Red**

Quick (not really) notes: Nobody knows Sheriff Stilinski's first name so I'm making one up. Also I sort of mash a whole bunch of stuff into this chapter at once, because nobody wants to hear about too many boring things between now and the full moon without Stiles to piss Derek off. Or maybe you do, but I don't really want to write it. Anyway, there are two scenes before the big battle. Yup, we're finally there. But I gotta say, the problem with WRITTEN battle scenes is that they're usually super short because it's very hard to write about all of the super epic fight moves going on… So the battle is kinds short but it's really hardcore I swear. *Cries* Also again, being that this _is_ the battle chapter, I totally had to make a battle playlist. I'm going to write them out (there's only 6) and if you feel like looking up how hardcore it sounded in my head while writing it then you can read them, but if you don't care then there's no more notes after this and you can just skip it! :)

**1.** Gorgeous Nightmare by Escape the Fate  
**2.** Lecher Bitch by the Genitorturers (FYI this is defs the best one)  
**3.** Coming Undone by KoRn (if I can't make the R backwards then I will at least capitalize it! And tbh the verses in this song didn't do much but the chorus was killer)  
**4.** Twisted Transistor by KoRn  
**5.** In the Middle of the Night by Within Temptation (same about the verses and chorus with this song but whatever)  
**6.** Xam'd – Lost Memories Opening Song – Shut Up and Explode

Talk about one of these things is not like the other… *Sings* Animeeeee openiiiiings!  
But in any case, onward!

* * *

_DEREK  
Three Days Later (Wednesday, June 19)…_

Derek sighs as he gets out of his car, parked in the Stilinski driveway at a time that he knows the sheriff (whose first name is apparently Patrick, which Derek honestly wouldn't have guessed) is currently at home, he and the others at the station yet to have found the three bodies—at least three, anyway; there could be more by now. It's been just under seventy-two hours since Sadb's spirit melded with Emma's body, and Scott has been keeping Stiles' cell phone company by ignoring all of its calls from people that don't know what's going on and only answering text messages.

The younger werewolves have taken back to school these last three weekdays since nobody can figure out what else to do before the full moon in _two_ days (not to mention finals), and Scott is taking homework home in all of Stiles' classes on the pretense that he's got a horrible flue that's just _so_ inconveniently timed. Derek has done every last word of it to keep his grades where they are. It's not Stiles' fault that he's currently a werecat under the name "Kitty", so Derek just can't bring himself to let the teen go down the academic tube this close to finals. Finals are tomorrow, so Derek talked to Bianca (who's currently staying at Melissa's with Scott and Isaac, though Derek isn't sure if she and Isaac are talking freely again quite yet) earlier today about assuming Stiles' form and taking all of his tests and things for him, to which she heartily agreed. Stiles is very glad that she decided to abandon her evil ring leader.

He takes a deep breath before walking up to the door, knowing that this is the only way to make Patrick a little less suspicious of the fact that Stiles is "staying over at Scott's until the end of the year so they can study for finals at all free times". Scott even snuck over while Patrick was at work so he could drive Stiles' Jeep into his own driveway.

Derek wants to make sure that Stiles doesn't get into trouble with his father on top of all the other shit he's had to go through. Cat-piles, for example…

He knocks twice on the door, and as it opens, he plasters on a charming smile.

"Derek!" Patrick says. "Didn't expect to see you on my day off."

Derek's smile widens. "Yeah, I was just stopping by to grab up a book I left behind before I did some more job hunting."

"Yeah, of course. Come on in. I've got that recommendation for you, too, if you want."

"Yeah, that'd be great!"

Derek follows after the sheriff as the door swings shut, into the living room and where a movie is paused on the TV screen.

"You seemed to know Stiles wasn't here before _you_ got here," Patrick says, handing the paper to Derek.

"Well, besides the fact that his Jeep isn't here," Derek says as he folds it up, "he told me he was hanging out with Scott since it's so close to finals. Mrs. McCall said I could go over later tonight and make sure they've been studying the right information. You know, the right thermodynamic formula and whatnot." Derek doesn't even know if there _is_ a thermodynamic formula.

Patrick just nods, though, his hands on his hips in a very sheriff-like stance. "Yeah, he says that it's too distracting here because there's stuff to do. Scott's is boring enough that it doesn't get them both off track. I did get a picture of Scott locking the video games up a trunk underneath his bed, though. Anyway." He waves his hands slightly, and Derek instantly knows where Stiles got his more animated side. "Go get that book of yours."

Derek nods before moving up the stairs and into the bedroom. He rinsed Stiles' sink vomit out as soon as the meeting with the Argent's was over, and he's also been utilizing Stiles's bed since he's sick of sleeping on a mattress in a cold warehouse. He'll never have to again, anyway… He's going to have to find a new place. Again.

Derek sighs, looking around the room. His need for Stiles has been increasing more and more as the full moon nears, but it's not yet to the point that it physically hurts him. Nonetheless, he grabs Stiles' pillow and sniffs in deeply, not caring that his own scent is mixed into it.

Being that he's currently a guest of Stiles' _father_ (which Derek finds his actually somewhat nerve racking, and he really doesn't like the feeling at all), he quick grabs the bestiary (which Derek found out from Bianca that it was the sirens who put it in his room in the first place) and goes back down the stairs.

"Thanks for letting me in, Mr. Stilinski," he says as he moves towards the front door.

"Uh, Derek, hang on."

Derek frowns at him. "Yes?"

The sheriff crosses his arms as he leans against the nearest wall. "Can I ask you a question?"

Derek gives a curious look. "Yeah, of course."

The sheriff pulls in a breath. "Why do you like my son?"

Derek breathes a laugh as he drops his gaze to the bestiary. He's pretty sure that "actually we're just training for when we're forced to fall in love" isn't going to cut it. He feels like a plausible answer is going to take at least ten seconds, but it finds that it comes in only three:

"I've never been a nice person before," he says, continuing to stare at the book. "When I was in high school, I made my best friend by humiliating her in front of my basketball teammates. A while before the fire I stopped smiling, I stopped laughing. But…" He looks up. "Stiles is always happy, no matter what terrible thing is going on around him. He'll spout of a sarcastic comment in the face of danger and give a snarky reply to his death. I'm not like that; I'm very negative. Because of that, and because so many things have happened in my life that should never have to happen to someone"—(his needing to kill his _best friend_, Kate's betrayal, the fire, etcetera)—"it's been years since I've been happy about _anything_. But Stiles is always happy, so it rubbed off here and there, so…"

He looks away again, deciding that Patrick's gaze is far too intense. "I'm happy. I'm happy because he _makes_ me happy and he doesn't even try to. The way his face lights up an entire room while he smiles, even if it's just Jackson tripping over his own shoelaces, and the way his laughter echoes around the entire world when Scott tells some joke so lame that he really shouldn't be laughing at all." He looks up, ready to say more, but when he sees Patrick's face again, it sort of dies away. "Um, yeah."

The sheriff is silent for a long time, but finally, when he does speak, he motions towards the living room. "Do you want to finish this movie with me? I have no idea what it's called or about."

Derek smiles. "Can we break out Stiles' baby pictures again when it's over?"

"Definitely."

And that single word lets Derek know that things will be okay. They'll get Stiles back. Everything will be perfect.

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES  
Two Days Later (Friday, June 21, in the middle of the day)…_

Stiles wakes up, as usual, buried in a pile of hidebehinds and a single mishibijw. It's still the middle of the night, but his chest hurts. It hurts so bad that he knows he's not going to be able to go back to sleep. He wakes Spandex up as he crawls out of the pile, clutching at the part of his shirt above his chest. Aibell gave him new clothes and a bath when they got back after the explosion, so now all of the blood is gone and he can feel his hair again.

"It hurts, 'Dex," he whispers, sitting down on the floor.

Spandex whines in her throat, flopping over his lap and wrapping her tail around his waist.

"Do you know what's wrong with me?"

The door opens, and in floats Krii, her gaze somewhat sad. Aibell hasn't spent very much time with Stiles these last few days because she's been with their new friend, Emma (she gets mad when they call her Sadb, but Stiles doesn't know why), and that hurts too, but at least his master still pats him on the head whenever she passes. Emma's not very nice, and she brought two others with her. They're much nicer than she is, but they seem to know Stiles a lot better than he knows them, and it bothers him. Derek was the same way. Why do so many people that he's never met know him?

As Krii floats in, both of Emma's friends (Aibell calls them sirens) follow in after her, closing the door behind them. The fire in the hearth burnt out last night, but the female siren (Julia) moves to start it up again.

"Are you alright, kitty?" Krii asks softly, sitting down beside him in her solid form.

He shakes his head. "My chest hurts," he says, tapping at it.

"What kind of pain is it?" the male siren (called Milo) asks as he sits down beside her. He takes Krii's hand when he sits, and they give each other little smiles.

"It aches," Stiles says, moving to use both hands to pet Spandex. "Not just my chest, either. It's everywhere. In every muscle, in every bone…" He pouts out his bottom lip, not caring that it makes his teeth prick the inside of his mouth a little. "My chest just hurts the most."

Milo gives a sad smile and rests his other hand over Stiles' chest. "It's your heart," he says. "You crave your mate."

Stiles frowns. "But Aibell said that Derek wasn't my mate."

Milo shakes his head, leaning closer to his ear. "She lied, Stiles. Don't you remember what Derek said? You have to listen to her heartbeat. Mine is steady right now because I'm telling the truth. When the full moon is out and the sun is down, you're heart is going to hurt more than it's ever hurt before, and you won't be able to do anything about it until you're close to the werewolf alpha again."

Stiles shakes his head. "No, no, I don't want him. He smells bad, but…" Stiles frowns, leaning sideways so that he can lean against Krii's shoulder in her solid form. "But he smells so _good_…"

Milo reaches over to him and ruffles his hair a little bit. "It's like talking to a toddler," he says to Krii.

Krii gives him a sad smile and squeezes his hand a little. "More like talking to a kitten."

Milo sighs. "Whatever it is, it's useless, and we're just going to get in trouble." He looks over at Julia, who hasn't said a word this entire time. She's just leaning against a wall with her arms crossed and head hanging. "Come 'ere, 'Lia."

Julia looks up at him, her eyes close to brimming over with tears.

Stiles frowns. "What's wrong?"

Julia sniffs in deeply as she pushes off the wall and moves to sit on Milo's other side. "Aibell killed my boyfriend," she says quietly. "He was Milo's older brother, too, Stiles."

Stiles gives a confused look. "But death is good, isn't it?"

Milo wraps an arm around Julia's shoulders. "It's okay, 'Lia," he says softly. "It's useless."

Julia nods, leaning heavily against him. "I know," she whispers, voice cracking.

Stiles feels something nagging in the back of his head that he should feel bad, but he just can't. Nonetheless, he reaches a hand over and takes one of Julia's. "Don't cry," he says.

She cries anyway, and the four of them and Spandex stay in their huddle, all of them in pain. Stiles because of his heart, Milo because his brother is dead, Julia because her boyfriend is dead, and Krii because…well, Stiles doesn't know why she's sad, but she looks it anyway. Stiles will ask later. He's still tired.

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK…_

Derek can feel his entire body sparking with life as he stands in the moonlight, but he also feels an immense pain in his heart that makes him want to rip it out of his body. He wants Stiles—he _needs_ Stiles. It hurts in every bone of his body, but it hurts in his heart the most, and it's making it very difficult not to wolf out and go after the banshees himself. He can't, though…

Currently Derek is standing on the porch of his old house, black and burnt and cold, and every last werewolf of Beacon Hills is standing with him. Lydia is at home since she's a human now, and Scott told Allison to stay with her, but the girl refused and said that she could help. Chris and his hunters arrived just a few minutes ago, and he's still glaring at Allison for apparently having snuck out of the house to come here, and she still refuses to set down her bow.

They're waiting. They're just _waiting_. He knows that the banshees will show up eventually, along with their monsters and _Stiles_. At the very least they'll come to do away with all of the werewolves and hunters so they don't have to deal with them anymore, because Derek is damn well sure that he'll hunt them down until he gets Stiles back, not to mention the fact that he's not about to die and let an immortal, solid banshee take over the entire planet. They're like the Borg, but this isn't Stark Trek: First Contact. This is real, and this is war. A very small war, but a war nonetheless.

It was the last day of Beacon Hills High School today, and Bianca is confident that she aced all of Stiles' exams. And now it's the full moon, and everyone is waiting.

The banshees appear slowly, filling up the spaces around them until the entire house is covered in white, wispy spirit, arcing over them like a dome. All of them are in grey, silvery dresses except for two ones in the white dress that floats forward until they're standing on the steps in front of Derek. The werewolves and humans are spread out beside him, some of them also on the porch and others on the dirt around it.

"Derek," Aibell says with a nod.

Derek glares at her and crosses his arms. "Aibell," he growls.

She gives a sickly sweet smile. "I'd like all of you to meet Sadb, the last of the Dal gCais clan." She rests a hand on Emma's shoulder.

It's not Emma anymore, though. "I've met you all before," she says. "Where is my old body, then?"

"Not here," Scott says darkly, stepping up beside Derek.

Emma—no, Sadb gives an unpleasant sound. "Shame," she says. "I was going to enjoy ordering my lovely little monsters to rip her apart."

Jackson snarls at her, and Derek glares at him to shut up. Those blue eyes bore back into his red for only a second before he steps back, finally understand the alpha thing. A perfect night, really.

Sadb simply smiles before turning around and floating away, disappearing into the wall of white. The full moon is shining brightly through the hundreds of spirit forms around them, illuminating everything completely. It's like they're acting as a prism, channeling the moon's energy down into the large clearing they made around Derek's old house. Why do they want the wolves stronger? Derek is so confused—he won't dare let it show, though.

Bianca jumps forward, actually tripping over her own feet and bumping against Scott on her way. "Where are Julia and Milo?"

Aibell hums, inspecting her perfectly trimmed fingernails. "Locked away for being traitors. Krii is with them, for the knowing, guarded by some other of my banshees since we can at least touch _each other_ in our spirit forms." She growls a little, but there's never any real threat behind a human sounding growl to a creature that can give a _real_ growl. "Little bitch fell in love with Milo, so she's a traitor as well. I'm planning on killing them later.

"No need, Aibell."

At that, said "traitorous" sirens and banshee are walking through the banshee dome, Krii untouched by the others because she's in her solid form.

Aibell glares. "Got out, did you?"

Julia has claws and her eyes are glowing a deep, bloodthirsty red. "Maybe trying to hold something that can shift into anything she wants wasn't such a great move on your part."

Aibell only laughs, though, and turns to walk away from everyone against her. "Fine, be on their side. You can die with them." She glances over her shoulder before disappearing out of the banshee dome. "If it's a war you want, Derek, then a war you shall have."

Derek expected all sorts of things to burst through the spirits and start attacking them, but everything stays quiet. The monsters he expected come through slowly, and Derek swallows tightly when he sees there are more than before. Originally it was the three hidebehinds, but Stiles under the full moon must have attracted the other two. The five of them wisp forward until their front halves are solid, standing in a foreboding line just inside of the banshee dome. Spandex slinks in from one side, moaning low in her chest like the night she was up on Stiles' roof. And, even more unexpected than the two extra hidebehinds, there's another mishibijw prowling in on the _other_ side of the hidebehind line, making their formation symmetrical. It has the same makeup as Spandex, but their hides are nothing alike. This new one, also moaning low, must have been an orange tabby, because it's orange with darker orange stripes.

It almost seems like an unfair fight on the banshees side, being that they can't actually harm anything (that's why they've got the hidebehinds, after all—besides their truce). Seven catlike monsters against seven werewolves, three sirens, and eight humans with very large guns and crossbows with bullets and arrows laced with _Gentiana verna_ ash. Krii doesn't exactly count since she'll be useless this fight with what her species is.

Derek looks around, all of his senses peaked, waiting for something to happen. He's not going to make the first move, and it doesn't look like Scott or Chris are going to either, which means everybody else on their side is just standing there. Derek isn't sure what the others are waiting for, but he's waiting for his mate to show. Where could he be if he's not here?

Derek is answered when the eeriest wind sound that he has ever heard rustles through the trees, followed by the loudest _roar_ that he's ever heard. And then, straight across from where Derek is standing, the hidebehinds part with three on one side and two on the other, allowing for a creature that Derek has never seen to walk through the banshee dome and stand between them. The two mishibijw's stop moaning from their chests and simply look at him, and Derek is about to ask Scott what he thinks it is, but then… It's Stiles. It's the werecat alpha form.

He doesn't look very much different than he did before, but his skin has changed so drastically that it seems like it has. It's black—not like Boyd, but literally _black_, like someone dumped black paint over him and decided to leave it there. His hair is black as well, including the furriness of the ears that once matched the brown, and his tail has grown out to the same length as the mishibijw's have. It's still lined with those little spikes, his claws are still black (and currently dripping with purple venom, which is not exactly reassuring), and those glowing purple eyes that are trained directly on Derek.

Derek's body _aches_ to go to him, but he won't. Not yet, anyway.

"Forget the _tutu_," Jackson says. "What happened to his _real_ clothes?"

Derek swallows tightly. He's in different clothes than the sweats he was only in when he changed and when he got away after Sadb's spirit melded with Emma's body, but they are his clothes. Whatever Aibell's been ordering him to do, though… They're torn up completely. His jeans have one of the pant legs ripped off so that that side is more like a pair of mini shorts, and the other leg is so torn and tattered that it might as well be the same. His shirt is a little more intact, but there are claw marks ripped through it in multiple places one of the t-shirt sleeves have been ripped off.

"You didn't think that our little orange tabby would give her allegiance to Stiles without a fight, did you?" Aibell's voice echoes through the dome. "He's the alpha, but he wasn't Halo's until just yesterday. You should have seen the fight…"

As it fades away, the purple in Stiles' eyes seems to glow even brighter. He tilts his head sideways and grins, revealing sharp white fangs that are dripping in the purple venom as well. "You're the reason my heart is hurting," he says. His voice is still obviously Stiles', but it's…harsher. It's angry and evil and frankly a little creepy. Stiles could probably do the same voice as a human, but Derek's just never heard it before. "Aibell says that the only way to make it stop hurting is to kill the thing that's making it hurt." He flexes his fingers, venom dripping down his fingers and claws and onto the forest floor to burn through leaves and dirt. "Kill me first and you won't die."

The very moment after he says his last word, the five hidebehinds and two mishibijw's launch forward, making the first move in the attack. Werewolves leap and bullets fly a little faster than Allison's arrows do, but they still do the trick. The ashes laced in those weapons stalls the hidebehinds for moments adequate enough to pin them down for short periods of time, but the problem is that half of the time they're in mist shapes and the bullets go right through them, plus they can mist away after they've been pinned. The mishibijw's are easier to stall since they can't turn into mist, but the problem is that none of the hunters have bullets that specifically affect them, so it's just bringing them down slowly since they're strong and have healing abilities almost as great as the werewolves.

They all know that the only way to truly stop the hidebehinds is to get the mishibijw's to turn on them, but the only way to do that is to get Stiles out of the trance and instruct them to do so—and, currently, Derek doesn't even know where Stiles _is_. There are so many movements and sounds going on at once that he just can't find him.

So he just keeps fighting, pinning things down and snarling when they get away and feeling terrible when he has to snap his jaws over one of Spandex's legs, because she's a good pet. She's just doing what she's told. Just like a beta. Stiles is the alpha to a pack of seven catlike monsters, and Derek is rather displeased to realize that that's a bigger pack than he has. They have seven werewolves altogether, but Stiles has all seven that currently exist under him at once.

When Derek finds a single place in the fight to breathe, he realizes how badly they're losing since they're unable to kill the hidebehinds and they don't want to completely kill the mishibijw's because they're the only things that _can_ kill the hidebehinds. Every last one of the hunters besides Chris and Allison are dead since they don't have weapons as a part of their body, and the only reason that those two have survived this long is because Scott, Isaac, and Bianca have teamed up to protect them as well as their guns and bows. Nobody else is too hurt since they have such a higher number than the banshees side, but they're getting tired, and soon they won't be able to keep this kind of fight up at all. Stiles' pack is fast.

A scream pierces its way through all of the snarling and teeth gnashing and thuds against the forest floor, and everything in Derek's life seems to move in slow motion as he whirls around. He sees it, Erica on her back as Stiles is above her and slashing his venom dripping claws across her chest and stomach. He drops to all fours and starts to sprint towards her, but everything is still going so slow, and he doesn't seem to be moving at all. He can't let Erica die—she's his beta—she's practically his own _child_—and Stiles will never forgive himself.

Blood is already beginning to gurgling slightly out of her mouth, and Derek would be lying if he didn't see some purple mixed in with it. She's not going to die. Derek won't let it happen. _She's not going to die_.

Before Derek gets to them, and as the others are beginning to notice it as well, Erica gives Stiles a small, feeble smile and manages a total of five words: "Snap out of it, Batman."

Stiles, inches away from her throat with sharp bared fangs and slick venom, stops, his mouth closing as he stares at her. In the still, one of Erica's arms lifts shakily up, and she taps a claw ever so lightly against the tip of his nose. Stiles actually yanks away at that, throwing himself backwards and into a standing position, his eyes wide and his hands shaking.

That's when Derek gets to him, reaching out a hand and wrapping it around his arm. "Stiles," he says.

The teen looks up at him, and Derek can tell that he's still under the spell, but something about Erica's words is making the Stiles inside of this alpha werecat seriously fight to get out. In the stillness of the two alphas, everything goes from slow motion to a dead stop. The hidebehinds and the mishibijw's stop because their leader has, though confused as to why; the ones on Derek's side have stopped because they need to fucking _breathe_, and why not do it while they can?

When the quiet becomes too much, both Aibell and Sadb (it feels so odd calling her that when it's Emma's body) drop down in their spirit forms. "Finish her!" Aibell screams, hair flying out and eyes glowing red. "Finish _all_ of them!"

Stiles takes a step towards Erica again, but Derek squeezes his hand around his arm, so he stops and looks up at him again.

Aibell sounds like an angry mother-in-law as she shrieks at Stiles to "finish them", and even Sadb begins to yell at him. The two strongest banshees—his "masters"—are telling him and his pack what to do, and Stiles keeps taking a step towards them and then stepping back, looking between them, Erica, and Derek. Because he doesn't move, his pack doesn't move. They don't have to listen to the banshees anymore, truce between the hidebehinds or not. They're not their masters anymore. The full moon is up and Stiles is.

"Derek!" Chris calls.

Derek only needs to hear his name to know exactly what to do. He spins Stiles towards him and kisses him hard, gripping the teens head between his hands and stepping close. There isn't even a second between their lips touching before Stiles steps up just as close, his claws digging into Derek's chest, but Derek doesn't care. He can taste the venom in his mouth, but it's not burning him.

When they finally pull away and Derek opens his eyes, Stiles is still in his alpha form, but Derek can _see_ that the trance has left him. His eyes are glowing a purple so bright that they could be used as a nightlight.

"Derek?" he whispers.

Derek shakes his head, stepping away. "There's no time to explain, Stiles. You have to kill her. You have to kill Sadb _now_."

Stiles turns to where Aibell and Sadb are floating, their expressions so angry that Derek feels as though the sky is going to explode if they hold it any longer. But then he sees Erica, and instead of slow motion, everything speeds up like they're fast-forwarding a VHS tape. It's almost like Stiles is back in the trance as he moves, crouching low over Erica's body and roaring so loud that Chris and Allison have to cover their ears.

But Sadb laughs. "You can't kill me, little _kitty_!" she says. "I'm a full banshee now, and we have the last golden apple in existence. I'm _immortal_."

But, with a flick of his tail, four of the five banshees are up in the air with them. The angry, laughing look on Sadb's face is replaced with absolute fear, and Aibell's anger is replaced with the same. Stiles walks over Erica and stands up straight as the entire banshee dome collapses in fear, but Stiles just looks calmly at the fifth hidebehind and points from it to Erica, who's heart is beating so slow that Derek can barely hear it at all. The creature moves through everyone as mist before becoming half solid at Erica's side, and nobody even tries to stop it as it bites down at her side. She moans in pain, but Milo's words ring through Derek's head:

_ "Everything has to get worse before it can get better, right?"  
_  
And that's when the hidebehinds rip through Sadb's spirit form, sending pieces flying away before they turn into mist and then disappear completely. Every last banshee around them open their mouths wide, and Derek quick covers his ears to block out the wailing sound that's about to come…but it doesn't come. They just float there, screaming in silence, with their hair flying out and eyes glowing a dying red.

Derek thinks that that's it, that they're all going to disappear now. But it's much more dramatic than that. Their white spirits begin to melt red, like they're actually bleeding, and once they're completely red, they melt even more to black.

"Krii!" Derek hears Milo screaming, and he glances off to the side to see the youngest siren holding tightly to the banshee that came with him and Julia, her solid form beginning to waver on her feet as she melts into red and black just like the others.

And then it ends, and all of the black spirits drift into mist, swirling through the air until they're gone completely. And Stiles turns around, eyes still gleaming bright, and gives one last ear splitting roar before promptly dropping to the ground and passing out. His black skin melts away first, and then his werecat features follow suit, going and going until there's nothing left but Stiles lying on his back and covered in blood.

The moment that every last feature is gone, both of the mishibijw's collapse where they're standing as well, and everyone stares with wide eyes as they begin to shrink and change until there's nothing there but housecats—Spandex even has her collar back to normal. The hidebehinds just drop back down to the ground, and the one that bit Erica goes to stand beside them, not moving a muscle as everybody else begins to.

"Is it really over?" Peter asks, looking around.

"It's really over," Bianca says, her smile tired but very bright.

Isaac launches at her so hard that, as his body collides with hers, they drop ungracefully to the ground. They don't seem to care very much as they're kissing, though.

Derek shakes his head, dropping down to Erica's side. Stiles may be his mate, but he's fine. Erica, on the other hand, isn't breathing and has no heartbeat.

"Kiss her forehead three times," Julia says to Boyd, shoving at his shoulder. "She'll heal and everything will be fine."

Derek holds tightly to one of Erica's hands as Boyd drops to her other side, bending down to do just that. As Erica's heart flutters back to life, the wounds heal faster than Derek has ever seen a wound heal, and then her eyes are snapping open and she's gasping for breath.

"I died," she says, grabbing onto Boyd's shoulders to get into a sitting position like she _didn't_ just die. "Stiles almost killed me! What happened?"

Derek finds himself smiling. "We won."

She smiles back, but it fades just as quickly. "Where's Stiles? What happened to him?"

Derek motions as he stands. "He's fine," he says, moving over to him, now. "Aibell is gone, and so is her spell. He's never going to try and hurt one of us again."

Scott lets out a _huge_ relieved sigh and drops down beside him. "Good, because he was seriously getting on my nerves."

"Well then!" Peter says brightly, putting his hands on his hips. "I think that went well."

And this time, even though there are human bodies littered around, instead of yelling, everybody simply smiles.

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES…_

Stiles groans as he wakes up, the light bright against his eyes even though they're shut. "Suuuun…" he whines, reaching an arm up to cover his face with a hand.

The bed dips right away, and Stiles doesn't even have to open his eyes to know that it's Derek. He's a werecat, now. He remembers that. He can smell him, and he's not very happy to find that, mixed in with the most beautiful smell in the world, is the smell of _dog_.

Stiles lifts his arm and opens one of his eyes, glaring a little at the body sitting beside him. "You stink," he says.

The smile that Derek gives is almost blinding, but not in a bad way, so Stiles moves his arm completely and opens his other eye.

"So do you," Derek says, leaning down.

Stiles reaches up to wrap tightly around his neck, and Derek drops a hand to slip below the blankets and grip tightly to his thigh, and it must be the mate thing because Stiles has never wanted Derek so badly in his entire life and—

"Ugh, get a room."

Derek breathes a laugh as he drops his head into Stiles' neck, and Stiles frowns as he looks over to see none other than Scott's _mom_.

"Oh my god," Stiles says, sitting up completely, actually realizing where he is. "Why am I in your bed?"

She laughs, walking away from a pile of books. "Relax, I'm leaving. I just wanted to stay in here until you woke up. You know, nurse an' all." And with that, she walks out, closing the door behind her.

Stiles frowns over at Derek. "Did she just give us the go-ahead to have sex in her bed?"

Derek smirks, pushing him onto his back again. "Yes."

Stiles welcomes the weight of Derek's body as the alpha rolls onto him, but only for a moment. "Wait, wait," he says, holding his hands up. "What happened? The last thing I remember is ordering the hidebehinds to destroy Sadb in Emma's body." He wrinkles his nose up. "Does that even make sense?"

Derek nods, rolling off of him again to lie on his side beside him. "Do you want the quick version or every detail?"

Stiles really wants the detailed version, but he also really wants Derek inside of him—like, _now_—so he goes for the quick version instead.

Derek talks quickly, telling him all about how Sadb's spirit melded with Emma's body, and then how the battle wasn't going very well at all until Stiles almost killed Erica ("She's fine, she's fine, just listen," Derek reassures him before Stiles has a panic attack) but then Derek kissed him and brought him out of the trance so that he could tell the hidebehinds to one, kill Sadb in Emma's body and two, heal Erica. Stiles passed out after that, and then Derek and the others brought him to Scott's place until he woke up. Bianca assumed his form and did his finals for him (Stiles is honestly thinking about kissing her in thanks, but apparently she and Isaac are a thing now, so he'll just give her a really big hug), and Derek did all of his homework before that (Stiles is definitely going to give _him_ a kiss for that). Pretty much all of the hunters died, so Chris and Alison decided that they would stop hunting things at all and live the quiet life. Emma was actually the leader of the sirens, and that's why she was with Sadb's spirit, and she killed Mason so that's why Bianca started helping them out, and then during the last battle Julia and Milo showed up to help them as well. The hidebehinds left completely, back to continue being enemies with the other banshees of the world, and Spandex and some other mishibijw that showed up both collapsed and turned into normal housecats (the other one apparently named Halo). Derek and the others aren't sure if it's permanent or if they'll turn back into underwater panther's come the full moon, but for now they're sleeping somewhere downstairs.

"So…" Stiles says when Derek is finally done. "I'm still a werecat?"

Derek nods, holding up a hand. "That's why you smell a little bad, but we'll get used to it, just like we did with Spandex." He unsheathes his claws. "Try it."

Stiles holds his claws up, and it only takes a little bit of concentration for black daggers to grow from his nails. "That is so cool," he says. "Can I do the same thing with everything else?"

"Yes," Derek says, "but later."

Stiles nods heartily as Derek rolls back on top of him, perfectly okay with later. Later he can thank Melissa and apologize to Erica and finally see his dad for the first time in a week and anything else that needs doing. Right now, though…

Stiles weaves his fingers into one of Derek's hands and slips it down until it's at his side, pressing over the scars of Derek's bite. "Thank you," he whispers.

And Derek kisses him, and Stiles sinks into complete and utter bliss.

* * *

End chapter notes: All I could think of while writing Derek's reason for liking Stiles (talking to Patrick, I mean) was Never Shout Never's song "Happy" but Derek would NEVER (get it get it get it?) listen to it so oh well. Anyway, it's the end of chapter 16 AND the big battle. Woooohoo! Did I write a cool enough battle scene? Maybe not but hey I tried. The banshees are gone, the hidebehinds get to go back to being mortal enemies with the banshees they didn't make truce's with, Isaac and Bianca finally got together (poor little Milo and Julia are heartbroken *cries*), blah yada blah. Only one more chapter after this, people :) The epilogue. Our journey is almost over! What a weird feeling.

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around*


	17. Epilogue: Winter Kisses

**17: Epilogue: Winter Kisses**

Quick note: I'm throwing in a quick POV from Stiles' dad because of reasons. And for other reasons, Beacon Hills (since it's a fictional place) is going to be located like right in the middle of Redding and Sacramento.

* * *

_Patrick  
About 6 Months Later (Friday, December 20, in the early evening)…_

Patrick whistles to the tune of a Queen song as he comes into the house, bags of groceries practically breaking his arms. It's that or two trips, and he is most definitely not making two trips. Stiles' Jeep is in the driveway, and Derek's Camaro (which Patrick is totally going to force Derek to let him borrow at least once on the fact that he's dating his son) is parked on the curb. He would have yelled at his kid to come help with at least getting all of this stuff out of the bags, but he's not really sure if he wants to go upstairs and find out exactly how much help a teenager would be with his jeans inside out.

"Hey, Spandex," he says as he pulls out the cat food. He's not really sure how, after all these years, Stiles _actually_ found their old cat, but he stopped questioning it after about a week. They brought another cat home as well (an orange tabby), by the name of Halo. "You sure are getting fat lately!"

The cat meows at him, excited for better food than the stuff that Patrick accidentally bought last time. Halo, a male, comes in as well, rubbing up against his leg.

"Just a minute, you guys. I still have to open up the bag so I can—"

Something _huge_ crashes upstairs, and as the cats scatter, Patrick is instantly up the stairs, his gun out and… He frowns at himself, lowering the weapon. "What am I doing?" he mutters to himself. "It was probably just a lamp."

"Oh my god, Stiles," he years Derek says behind the closed door. "You broke it."

"What?" Stiles says. "Derek, it's fine, it was just my shitty old lam—"

"Stiles, you broke my antique vase!"

"What? No I—oh whatever. Do you really have to pronounce it as 'vaws'?"

"I'm gonna have to punish you, Stiles."

Stiles is silent for a moment. "Do you mean…?"

"Uh-huh."

Stiles gasps. "Oh god no. Please no."

"No, it's too late, I have to now!"

"No, Derek, anything!"

Patrick knows that they're just playing (can you call it playing when they're seventeen and twenty-four?), but geez, he's about ready to pull his gun out again.

"I'M GONNA DO IT!" Derek yells. "YOU NEED TO LEARN YOUR LESSON, STILES. I'M GONNA HAVE TO TICKLE YOU."

Patrick stands there for a split second with a confused look on his face before Stiles' shrieking laughter pierces through the air, calling for help between gasps. But Patrick just smiles and walks away, because maybe Derek is seven years older than his son, but they're perfect. Patrick saw that right away—or, as soon as he knew about it. It wasn't too hard to guess with Derek's car always parked somewhere on the street. Patrick isn't an idiot.

Ever since he found out, both of the boys (not that Derek is much of a "boy"; is it even possible to have a chest like that?) have been completely open about it. They hold hands under the table and Derek puts exactly the right amount of chocolate syrup on Stiles' ice cream and Mr. Tough Guy puts up with all of Stiles' chick flicks. That's probably Patrick's favorite thing about him, because if he had to be forced to watch Mean Girls _one more time_… Well, he's saved from it now. Sometimes he comes home after a late night at work to find them both asleep on the couch and a movie still playing or Stiles is passed out on Derek's chest while Derek is just reading above him like he's perfectly comfortable being used as a human pillow. He helps Stiles do the dishes and he makes _great_ sandwiches and Stiles is officially been an A student his entire junior year so far—and it's been a few months since it started, too.

And the birthday party that he put together for Stiles… It was almost embarrassing it was so perfect, but it was at Lydia Martin's house (Patrick remembers Stiles having a crush on her for _ages_) and all of their friends were invited and the parents came too. Apparently Melissa has been seeing Derek's uncle, which Patrick _swore_ was dead, but obviously not. Stiles threw a birthday party for Derek as well (poor kid was born on September eleven, which has got to put a crimp on things every year), but it was quieter, with just people that Patrick remembers named as Erica, Isaac, and Boyd over here. They kept saying it was their "pack except for Jackson because he's a dick", but Patrick has mostly stopped thinking about it.

Everything, though. Everything they do is perfect, even when they argue. Sometimes Stiles wants a tuna fish sandwich but Derek wants grilled cheese and they just sit their and glower at each other before playing rock, paper, scissors and Derek always gives in when Stiles starts to pout after losing fair and square. And whenever Stiles gets frustrated with some math problem or scientific formula and shuts down Derek just gives him a huge and whispers sweetly that he's going to murder Stiles if he doesn't take a breath and try again.

And maybe Derek doesn't have a job, but he's got enough money to last him _years_, so he helped Stiles get one instead. It's kind of funny to think about his son working in a feline adoption center, but then he has had a craving for seafood ever since his sophomore year ended. He likes licking people, too; not all slobbery like a dog, but a little stick of his tongue here and there before telling someone that he loves them. Not to mention better at balancing, being more flexible, taking naps in sunbeams, and the weird purring thing that he figured out to do. Patrick would call him out on how catlike he's being, but Derek actually calls him "kitten" sometimes, so he tries to just ignore it.

That's the thing, though. Hard as he tries, he can't ignore the fact that, with all the powerful observation skills that come with being a cop, he's noticed that Derek and his son—little Stiles who's actually not even of a legal age to _be_ dating Derek—is…

He breathes a laugh as he puts his gun away completely. He'd have to confirm the idea with Melissa and Peter, but he's pretty damn sire that Stiles and Derek are falling in love.

**OoOoOoO**

_DEREK  
The Next Day (Saturday, December 21, in the early morning)…_

"Stiles, really? A _blindfold_?"

"Come on, 'Rek, you know I don't trust you. At least I'm not breaking out a clothes pin to pinch your nose shut."

"No, but those are the fluffiest earmuffs I have ever seen."

"Huh? Oh, no, ignore those. I'm just going to turn the music up really loud. Hope you like All Time Low!"

Derek smiles as Stiles waves the blindfold around, pulling him forward to kiss him softly. "It's growing on me," he says.

Stiles giggles, pushing up to kiss him again.

Being that it's the first full day of Christmas break at the high school and Stiles has an entire week off from work, Derek and Stiles are going on a weekend trip before the Christmas party at Lydia's with the huge "family" that they've managed to put together… Derek, Stiles, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Peter, Jackson, Scott, Allison, Lydia, Bianca, Julia, Milo, Melissa, Patrick, Mrs. Martin, Danny, Spandex, Halo, and even Chris. (Being that there have been multiple full moons since sophomore year ended, everyone in their "family" that knows about everything involving werewolves found out that, yes, Spandex and Halo turn into underwater panthers every full moon. Derek and the others have been teaching Stiles not to mindlessly maim people during the full moon, and he's not happy to say that it was easier to teach his betas. Wolves are more obedient, but cats are evil in the first place, so it took a while. Stiles did think of that thing to keep him grounded, though, and he still refuses to tell Derek what it is. That's fine, though, because he overheard his boyfriend telling Scott about it. It's his mother, and that just fuels how alike he really is to Isaac.)

It's just going to be Derek and Stiles on this trip. Just them—no Scott, no Peter, no anyone else at all—driving up to… Well, Derek doesn't actually know. They're taking Stiles' Jeep, which means it's not anywhere for a Camaro that gets _much_ better gas mileage, but Stiles is keeping it a secret (that's where the blindfold comes in). Stiles also made a bet with him that he would never guess where they were going, and he's going a little overboard to make sure that Derek won't cheat, filling his car with all sorts of air fresheners to bog him down and then the playing his music really loud.

If Stiles wins because Derek is actually surprised by where they end up, Stiles gets to top for the night just to force Derek to know what it's like to have a pair of fingers up his ass. If Derek wins, and he knows exactly where they're going with_out_ using any of his werewolf senses, he's not going to help Stiles with the dishes for a week. Derek is pretty confident in himself, to be honest. His prize is in the _bag_.

Patrick comes out as Stiles is tying the blindfold on since they're just about to leave (the car is already on to warm up; it's only forty-something degrees, and this is nothing compared to when Derek spent two years of his life up in Washington when going to WWU. It gets fucking _cold_ there compared to here), so Derek is officially without sight. His kitten (yes, he dared to do it; he just couldn't help himself, not to mention how much fun it is to say "sex kitten") leads him to lean against the Jeep, and Patrick laughs.

"Dare I ask?" he asks.

"We made a bet," Stiles says with a laugh. "Don't ask what it is 'cause you won't like it. You remember where I said I'm taking him, right?"

Derek rolls his eyes even though nobody can see them. "Oh, so _he_ gets to know?"

Patrick laughs again, stopping in front of them. "Yeah, I remember. You guys will be careful, right?"

"Of course," Derek and Stiles say in unison. Stiles breathes a laugh and wraps his fingers around Derek's wrist.

"Don't worry, sheriff," Derek says, using his other hand for a loose mock salute. "I'll have him back by ten."

Patrick chuckles, and Derek knows very well that it's for the fact that he knows the alphas are going to be gone for a couple of nights—not that he knows that they're alphas, on the other hand. Stiles has decided to tell him everything on New Years, like a New Years resolution kind of thing.

"Well, we should be off," Stiles says, leading Derek to the passenger door as if he couldn't find it himself. "Wait, wait, dad, can you help me put those last things in?"

Derek frowns as he gets into the car. "Last things?"

"I can't tell you, it'll ruin the surprise."

Derek rolls his eyes and puts his chair back. He might as well just take a nap on the way. Stiles _did_ say they were going to be in the car for about three hours with bathroom breaks. They won't stop for lunch since Derek made tuna fish sandwiches—which, _wow_, Derek is really getting sick of.

It takes about five minutes to get whatever those last things are into the back of the Jeep, and then Stiles is bidding his father farewell before hopping into the driver's seat.

"Alright, babe," he says, the car toasty warm. "Music high or low?"

"I thought you didn't want me to hear anything."

"Eh, everything's familiar for the first half an hour."

"I don't really care. I'll probably fall asleep."

"Aw, and leave me alone?"

Derek breathes a laugh. "Alright, alright, I'll stay awake."

"No, no, actually, go to sleep. That way there's no way that you _can_ cheat, and then I can just talk to Scott on the phone the entire time."

"He's not spending the day with Allison?"

"No, he's got a big speech to give when we get back to school, so he's getting it over with right away."

"Smart kid."

"Tell me when you're asleep, okay?"

Derek snorts.

"No, no, that's not what I mean. Like…when you're about to fall asleep, maybe? Ugh, whatever, you have a different breathing pattern when you sleep, I'll figure it out. I'll keep the music semi-quiet for you."

"Yeah, alright."

"Do you want me to wake you up at any rest stops or to eat or whatever?"

"No, I just went and I haven't drank anything more yet. I'll be fine."

"Alright, cool. Promise you won't peek if you happen to wake up when I'm getting gas or something?"

"I promise, Stiles."

The teen presses his lips to his cheek. "Good."

**XxX**

Derek wakes up who knows how long later, but there a ton of smells and something that Derek has never heard is playing softly through the car.

"I can't believe you _actually_ did that," Stiles says quietly.

"Come on, it was funny!" Scott says through the speaker. "I don't think Chris has ever liked me more."

"I don't really know how singing Sixteen Going on Seventeen up on a stage together made him like you more."

"Maybe it was the fact that Allison sang Rolf's part and I sang Liesl, since Allison is older than I am."

"Normally I would make fun of that, but being that my boyfriend is seven years older than I am I really can't say anything at all."

"Exactly, so shush. Anyway, how close are you guys?"

"Like, ten minutes. It's getting super bumpy, too, so I'm hoping it doesn't jostle him awake quite yet."

"Yeah, I'm almost done with this damn speech by now. Did I tell you that it was on JRR Tolkien yet?"

"Scott, what are you Tolkien about? You've told me, like, eight times."

Scott is silent for you. "Did you just…?"

"Yes. Yes I did. You really have told me eight times."

"I'm just excited about it! You know how much I love the Lord of the Rings."

"Yes, I do. I can't even fathom how you manage to get through those books, though. They're good, yeah, but they're _long_."

"I'm sorry, _how_ many times have you read the Harry Potter books?"

"More times than I've read Twilight!"

"I still can't believe you read those at all."

"Come on, you know I can't stand it when people hate something that they don't know anything about. They were actually okay! I mean, the romance was lame and sparkling vampires was a little over the top, but still."

"Whatever, I don't want to talk about it anymore. Can I read what I've got so far? I can't decide if it's a five or an eleven on the 'you bullshitted this entire thing didn't you' meter."

Stiles chuckles. "Yeah, alright."

Derek stretches out as Scott starts on it, alerting Stiles to his being awake.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Stiles whispers, and a hand comes down on the top of Derek's head to rustle up his hair a little.

"Morning," Derek mumbles, reaching up to grab Stiles' hand before he can pull it away. "How close are we?" he asks, even though he knows the answer.

"Less than ten minutes," Stiles says as Derek kisses his hand before letting it go. "Any idea where we're going?"

"Somewhere bumpy."

Stiles laughs. "In a sense, yes."

"Stiles, are you even listening?" Scott asks.

"Oh, fuck, sorry Scott. No, I didn't hear any of that. Derek just woke up."

"Good, he can listen to. I'm _going_ to get an A on this damn thing, and you are going to help me do it, Mr. Three-Point-Eight.

Stiles chuckles. "You've got a three-point-five, Scott. You're doing fine. A _million_ times better than last year."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Scott drones on in his speech, telling them all sorts of things about the "amazing man that wrote the Lord of the Rings and was close friends with CS Lewis". "So," he says at the end. "A five or a twelve?"

"Man, that was more like a two," Stiles says. "It actually sounded really good. You'll do fine."

"Derek, what do you think?"

"A three," he says, putting his chair back up so he can sit instead of lie. "The end was awkward."

"Ugh, I thought so. Anyway, I guess I'll go since you guys are almost there. Allison is coming over in about an hour so we can give our speeches to each other, so I won't be lonely. Do you know where you guys are going yet, Derek?"

Derek sighs. "No."

Stiles gasps. "Really? You really don't?"

"I woke up five minutes ago, Stiles. I honestly have no idea."

"Aw yisss! I'll talk to you later, Scott. I have finger exercises to do!"

"Oh my god, Stiles, ew, goodbye."

Stiles chuckles as Scott hangs up, putting his phone off to the side with a clunk. "Alright, alright, almost there."

Derek endures five minutes of Stiles whistling a mash-up of Star Wars songs before the Jeep finally pulls to a stop, and Stiles tells him not to move as he gets out. The passenger door opens seconds later, and Stiles is taking his hands to help him out.

"Ready?" he asks, hands up at the blindfold.

Derek sighs. He really doesn't know where they are... Looks like he's subbing tonight. "Yeah, I'm ready."

As the blindfold is pulled away, Derek's eyes have never widened so wide in his life.

"Ta-duh!" Stiles says brightly, throwing his arms out. "Welcome to the Mt. Shasta Ski Park!" He spins around to face the park. "Snow!"

Derek remembers telling Stiles why his favorite color was white, and he wastes a total of three seconds to be in awe of the place before grabbing Stiles' shirt to yank him over and kiss him hard. "You win," he says between kisses. "You win the bet, and I do not even care."

Stiles laughs, pushing him away. "Who's the best boyfriend ever?" he asks, a cheesy grin plastered across his face.

Derek rolls his eyes, pulling him back for a hug. "You are, kitten."

"Ick, don't call me that in public." He pushes away, a good natured look of disgust across his face.

Derek laughs. "I'll think about it."

"Ugh, fine. Come on, I've got reservations and everything."

"What stuff did you pack me, anyway?" he asks. Stiles did it so Derek wouldn't have any clues as to where they were going.

"You know, warm stuff." He opens the trunk. "Also Peter found your old snowboard and that's what's my dad helped me put in here."

Derek grins. "He _would_ have kept that after all these years."

Stiles laughs. "Funny, he said the same thing about himself."

Derek kisses him again. "Thank you."

"Anytime, toots. Now help me to get this stuff to our room."

**OoOoOoO**

_STILES  
The Next Day (Sunday, December 22)…_

Stiles smiles to himself as he shoves a carrot in for the nose of the perfect snowman he's just made, off in a little area of snow for such things so that no snowboards or skis will crash into it and destroy it. He takes out his phone and takes a few steps back so he can get a picture, and that way he'll be able to put on some lame filter and an even lamer caption that's supposed to be all inspirational and shit. At least he doesn't have an Instagram. He does not need the temptation to take a selfie while he's in the bathroom like girls do.

Literally the moment after he's taken the picture, he yelps in surprise as big arms come out of nowhere and swoop him up. He yelps again as the body holding him drops into the snow beside the snowman, and Stiles laughs as Derek holds his head against his chest and then rests his chin on top of his head. Just before he can ask what's gotten his wolf into such a good mood, Derek speaks:

"I just realized that I'm in love with you," he says, "and it feels fantastic."

Stiles' eyes widen and his heart lodges in his throat as he leans away, staring at him. It only takes a split second, but he thinks of every last thing that he and Derek have ever been through… Seeing him for the first time in the forest with Scott, talking to him in his the cop car, the times he used to sneak into Stiles' bedroom and threaten him, that time with Danny when he called himself Miguel, when Derek kissed him in front of everybody at school and then they panicked because he could have gotten arrested, their first time together, when Stiles' dad found out and _didn't_ arrest him, jacking each other off in Lydia's pool (which she still doesn't know about, thank god), and everything involving the fact that it baffles all sorts of people how a werewolf and a werecat can possibly be dating… Nothing else has happened in Beacon Hills since then. Nothing, and it's wonderful.

Derek sleeps next to Stiles every night, and he's the only one in the entire world that has ever been able to stop the panic attacks he has after nightmares about Aibell and when he almost killed Erica (obviously she still calls him Batman, and Stiles is going to get a scar across his nose pretty soon if she keeps tapping it with claws). Derek reads with him and Stiles actually has _fun_ shopping with him and Stiles totally got an awesome tan over the summer that's gone now but still and even Jackson has stopped making fun of their relationship and Stiles and Derek are _mates_ so of course they would feel the need to be together, but… But this is different. This is perfect.

Stiles breaks out into a breathless smile. "Really?"

Derek nods, his eyes ablaze with an underlying passion that Stiles didn't even know he had.

Stiles grabs his face and pulls him into a kiss, not letting him go until neither of them can hold their breath for a single second longer. "I love you," he whispers as he continues to pepper kisses across his face anyway. "I love you, too."

Derek laughs and wraps his arms tighter around him, rubbing their noses together.

"Aw, an Eskimo kiss in the snow!" somebody yells at them. "How cute!"

Stiles and Derek frown up at whoever this guy is, holding a really expensive looking camera in his hands. "Um, thanks?" Stiles says as Derek kisses his cheek.

"I'm Ethan," he says. "My twin, Aiden, and I work for the park here. We're supposed to be putting together pictures for the website and some fliers. Do you care if I take your picture with the snowman?"

Stiles looks over at Derek, who shrugs.

"Yeah, that's fine!" Stiles says brightly, throwing his arms around his neck. "Does it matter if we stay like this?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, it's totally fine. I'm gay too; nobody cares here, and the ones who do can go jump off the off limits side of the mountain because of cliffs." He holds the camera up. "Smile!"

Stiles holds his mouth open wide, more like he's laughing, and Derek gives his usual dazzling smile that makes most people want to kiss him right there. Stiles has gotten used to it, so he can at least hold himself back, but it's certainly difficult.

Ethan takes a few more pictures before thanking them and heading off.

"He smelled terrible," Stiles says, scratching his nose.

Derek nods, watching him go. "That's because he's a werewolf."

Stiles' eyes widen. "Wait, really?"

Another nod.

"We'll have to talk to them before we leave tomorrow. He could probably smell us too, right?"

"He's pretty young, so he might not have known what he was really smelling. We'll talk to him tomorrow."

Stiles smiles and kisses him softly. "In the meantime, I, uh… I have something for you."

Derek gives him a quizzical frown. "Really?"

Stiles nods, moving to stand. "It's back in the room, though."

Derek laughs. "_Oh_."

Stiles shakes his head. "No, no, it's not that. It's something completely different than that."

Derek raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Stiles forces himself to breath evenly as they make their way back to their room, hands wound tightly together through thick gloves. A long time ago, before Stiles even knew that he and Derek were mates, Stiles remembers giving Derek a huge lecture about getting over stuff. Derek had brought up the fact that Stiles' dad was still wearing his wedding ring, and then Stiles said that he still had something of his mother's as well but he wasn't going to wear it around. That thing happens to be _her_ wedding ring, shoved into the back of his sock drawer in a pair that he never wears. He's not asking Derek to marry him (obviously, since he just realized he was in love with the guy _today_), but… Well, for some reason, he wants Derek to have it. Something in the back of his head is just telling him that his mom would want him to have it.

Derek sits down on the bed as Stiles digs through his suitcase for the pair of socks, and he makes sure Derek doesn't see the simple silver ring with a tiny, worn out diamond as he grips his hand around it. He moves to sit down beside Derek, both of them facing each other with crisscrossed legs.

"I'm not asking you to marry me," Stiles stresses, ignoring the completely confused, wide-eyed look that Derek gets. "I just…um…" He explains what it is, and Derek nods when he remembers what Stiles is talking about. "I want you to have it because I think that she would want you to have it, too."

He holds his fist out, and Derek holds his own hand palm up before Stiles drops the ring into it. Derek stares at it for what seems like ages, his eyes practically sparkling even though he's looking _away_ from the light.

"Stiles…" he whispers, looking up at him. "This was your mothers. I can't take this away from you."

Stiles shakes his head, putting his hands behind his back. "Put it on a necklace or something, would you? It's not going to fit on any of your fingers if it barely fits on my _own_ pinky. I want you to have it, Derek. How long have we been dating?"

"Officially? Six months and eleven days."

Stiles gives a raised eyebrow at the exact day thing there, but he decides not to address it: "You mean we hit the six month mark and I didn't even notice?"

"It was that time that we stayed over at Peter's house and he purposely walked in on us having sex to take a picture and then he wouldn't stop laughing for half an hour at the wide-eyed looks on our faces."

Stiles chuckles. "Right, right, I remember now. And _speaking_ of which…" He gives an evil sort of grin. "You owe me a dom."

Derek rolls his eyes as he leans over and sets the ring onto the nightstand. "Now is a good time," he says. "Nobody will be in their rooms since it's the middle of the day."

Right as they get their shirts off, the corded phone that came with the room starts to ring. Stiles sighs, because the only person he gave the number to was his dad since reception up here is so bad and…well, it's his dad.

"Hello?" he says as Derek continues to strip.

"Hey, Stiles!" he says brightly. "Uh, guess what Spandex and Halo gave us for Christmas!"

Stiles frowns, but he lets out a little giggle when Derek starts to pull _his_ pants off. "Derek is here. Should I put it on speaker?"

"Yeah, he'll probably want to know, too. Halo is officially his, right? I can't remember."

"Yeah, officially." He presses the speaker button before putting the phone down, lifting his hips so that Derek can pull his boxers off next. "What did Spandex and Halo give us for Christmas, dad?"

"You know how Spandex has been really fat lately?"

"Yes," he and Derek say in unison.

"Well, about an hour ago, she gave birth to four kittens!"

Stiles and Derek are silent for a moment, staring at each other.

"_Kittens_?" Derek asks.

"You mean…little cats?" Stiles asks.

"Yes," his dad says. "'Little cats'. Scott is over right now to make sure that they're healthy, and he's also writing a list of supplies that we'll need. It sure is a good thing you're best friends with a guy that works at a vet, son."

"Yeah," Stiles says, eyes still wide. "Wow, kittens. We're coming back tomorrow, so we'll see them then. Don't you dare name them without us!"

"Well, Scott's been calling one of them Earwig because one of its ears is a little deformed, but other than that they're all yours!"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Thanks, dad. How's having the house to yourself?"

"Kind of boring, actually. I liked not having to do the dishes. I just spent the day going Christmas shopping with Peter and Melissa."

"Wow, third wheeling already? How exciting. I just asked Derek to marry me." He gives his dad a total of one second to be silent before he bursts into laughter. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Geez, dad, I'm not even eighteen yet."

"Remember when you promised you wouldn't get married until you were twenty-five?"

Stiles shrugs even though his dad can't see it. "We'll see."

"At least don't adopt anything until you're that age, alright?"

Both Stiles and Derek snort. "Not until I'm thirty, dad. Don't worry."

"Good. Anyway, I guess I'll leave you to your snow."

"Thanks, dad. Love you."

"Love you too, son."

When Stiles hangs up, he rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. "Wow," he says as Derek lies down beside him. "I'm a grandpa."

"Wow is right," Derek says as he starts to slide a hand over Stiles' chest. "This next full moon is going to be quite an event."

Stiles groans a little, dragging a hand down his face. "_I'm_ barely trained, let alone an entire family of mishibijw's!"

Derek smiles warmly, leaning over to kiss his cheek as his hand slides lower. "You'll be fine," he says. "They listen to you, remember? They're the most obedient little betas in the entire world."

Stiles breathes a laugh and tugs Derek to make him crawl over top of him. His boyfriend used to be a million times stronger than him, but ever since Stiles became a werecat, they're more evenly matched than anything. "They have to," he says. "They crave my leadership in every bone of their bodies."

Derek hums as he rubs his nose across Stiles' jaw line. "Know what _I_ crave in every bone of my body?"

Stiles arches his neck back, smirking at him. "Enlighten me, lover boy."

Derek kisses him softly. "I love you, Stiles," he whispers as his hand stops over the scars of the bite marks.

Stiles miles up at him as he wraps his arms around Derek's neck, happier than anyone in the entire world. "I love you too, Derek. Now stop talking and kiss me."

Derek laughs, doing just that, and Stiles once again sinks into pure, loving bliss.

* * *

Ending story notes: Oh gosh I'm done. Am I really done? It's like a dream, maybe? Either way, I think I did a pretty good epilogue, if I do say so myself :) I really totally hope you guys loved the whole thing as much as I loved writing it ^-^ And, if not…well, I don't know why you endured it then, but I suppose I won't complain :P Anyway, I do have a reference to make. In Stiles' POV of view in this chapter, where Derek swings him up and how he tells him that he loves him, is a post that I got off tumblr. I know I know I stole the cuteness I'm sorry. It's from _imagine-your-fav-character_ on tumblr :) And ugh I want to draw the picture that Ethan (yes, yes, I threw the twins in. I like them, okay?) took of Derek and Stiles at the snowman but I CAN'T DRAW AND IT IS INFURIATING. Oh well.

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think? :) Or don't lol *hearts all around* [Please tell me you all noticed that that's been at the end of literally all my chapters I mean come on its okay I love you bye]


End file.
